


What Comes After Earth

by Ukiikun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autonomy inspired, Enhanced Humans - Freeform, M/M, Other, Pseudoscience, SPAAAAACE, Space Opera, Titan A.E. inspired, biomedicine, biotech, dark and light themes, in any way, lots of world building, mcu - Freeform, no idea how long this will be - but it will probably be a stupid long thing, non-canon compliant, or - an attempt at one, same with rating, some background ships here and there, suuuuuper slow burn, tags will change as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukiikun/pseuds/Ukiikun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mind is a tool greater than any physical creation. If we are not limited by the technology of our time, then truly the only limit we must have left is the boarders around our own imagination.</p><p>A Titan A.E. Marvel attempt at a Space Opera!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A.E. 3035

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Autonomy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485781) by [Amethystina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystina/pseuds/Amethystina). 



> Ok so, a little while back I read an awesome story by Amethystina called Autonomy, and it got my nerdy heart screaming in joy! They wrote an awesome space opera -that I am shamelessly promoting here, go read it if you love Bucky and Tony and SPAAAAAACE- and I kinda wanted to try writing one as well!
> 
> So one of my favorite movies of all time is called Titan A.E., and if you haven't seen it you really should cause it's gorgeous! Then again, I am a 90's kid so that might mostly just be me nerding out.
> 
> Anywho! This is going to be a Marvel-TAE cross that I'm experimenting with. I'm not sure how often I will be updating this because I am in school, but as it is a large plot bunny I will probably get pretty far decently fast.
> 
> For those who have seen the movie, I don't think I will be doing much to mix the characters at all. I will be using the same timeline and as much of the original story as I possibly can, but other than that I will be keeping contact between the two sets of characters as limited as possible. I'm kind of trying to set this story up as almost like a nested tale - a story within a story.
> 
> I am for sure using a quote in the first chapter, and I have the quote noted at the end too, but don't think I'll get the opportunity to quote the movie again after this if the story writes the way I want it to.
> 
> NO idea how this will work out, but we shall see!!

“Will you children please calm down! You’re causing so much chaos, I swear!”

“It’s just tag, ma’am!”

“I don’t care! Sit! Be still! Or you’ll all just have to go to bed without your nesting tale!”

That caused several loud protests, from at least six different age ranges.

“Haha, it’s fine Miss Cho, really! Come on shrimps, time to calm down. Sit - hey! Put the wrench down! Come on, get that spark plug outa’ your mouth before you hurt yourself, Jess.” The brunette laughed as the kids whined, more or less settling down around the barrel to listen to the story. With a fond smile he stopped to take a few slow breaths, looking up to the stars at the top of the dome.

Drifter Colonies. They were both a sad story, as well as a harsh reality for what was left of mankind. Great masses of metal with a specialized dome to keep in the oxygen and a gravity shield to keep shit on the docks. Ships, old parts of floating buildings, and large bits of rock that were slowly gathered over the years, welded and strung together to keep the great structures alive. In any sense of the word.

Sure, they did well for themselves considering they started from nothing, but what they had? It was hardly a great life. Hardly a life at all. Any water they had was filtered, everything they had or used was collected and repurposed for some use or another, and rust and holes in the metal walls were two of the most common and least enjoyed sights of the town. Small greenhouse pockets were created but couldn't grow much, plants were kept around the colony, and sometimes they had enough resources to cultivate more than small livestock. Pets were usually out of the question, there simply wasn’t enough food to go around for the inhabitants, nevermind extra mouths that couldn’t contribute.

At least the talns - a kind of sheep, goat-like creature - gave a milky substance and plenty of fibers for cloth. Meat too, when it was time to slaughter it.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he tried to picture their home - their old home - before he sat on the barrel, crossing his legs under his body and playing with the frayed ends of his sweater.  
“There are a thousand things I could tell you of each night, and each night I ask that you just pick one. Let’s see.. Faun, it’s your turn to pick tonight, I think.”

The boy grinned and quickly nodded his head, nudging his sister’s knee happily. “I-I wan’ know.. ‘Bout cities!”

That inspired a small laugh out of him. “Well.. I, uhh.. Don’t think I can tell you about that, I was really young when we lost Earth. I remember great shining buildings, gliders that stuck close to the ground.. Thousands of people - more than you could possibly count - crammed into a place filled with grass, trees, buildings, and even more people.. The light of the sun shining off of every possible surface, and a warm wind that always brought a different smell to your nose..”

Cho smiled softly, gently rubbing the boy’s head as she passed out some warm milk to each of the gathered children. “If you really want to know about the cities, I will tell you about it tomorrow for your story instead. For tonight, why not pick something else?”

Kelly - a girl of about thirteen - jumped up instead, her bright green eyes shining as she stared at their storyteller. “Oh! You were there the day it happened, right? Tell us about that!”

“That’s hardly an easy thing to talk about, little one!”

“Haha, it’s alright Miss Cho.. I won’t scare them, and it’s not a bad story to tell..” She gave him a small, sympathetic smile before continuing to pass out the drinks. “Now.. I was a child, not much older than many of you, the day the Drej attacked. My mother held me close, carrying me to one of the escape vehicles as citizens around the world were evacuated. We didn’t have much warning - we knew the threat existed, but we never believed they would see us as that big of a threat.

“Mother told me about a man, probably one of the greatest men to live and a man that I want you all to remember for the rest of your lives, and to tell your children of him as well some day. His name.. Was Sam Tucker. He was a great leader in a project to secure the future of humanity, and he was always a great storyteller.”

“You knew Mr. Tucker?”

“Heh, not really, no.. My parents worked with him, my father was an engineer and mother was an analyst. So once in awhile I got invited to an office party and was allowed to meet with him and some of the other kids. I.. Kind of remember his son - a blonde kid with big eyes, and a love of inventing things. We never really got along, though.. I do remember the last time we were all together, the morning of the attack.

“Mister Tucker gathered us kids together before letting us out to play, holding our attention on a map to show us where we were allowed to go while the adults all made the preparations.. He said.. “Once in a great while, mankind unlocks a secret so profound that our future is altered forever. Fire. Electricity. Splitting the atom. At the dawn of the thirty first century, we unlocked another. It had the potential to change humanity’s role in the universe. We called it the Titan project, and it is a testament to the limitless power of the human imagination. Always remember that nothing is beyond the realm of what is possible, so long as you never lose focus and strive to reach it.” We were allowed to go play after that, but soon enough our parents came to collect us.”

He stopped to take a few breaths now, looking up at the stars again and gently strumming his fingers on the center of his chest. “We.. Made it to the outside of the atmosphere, the blue stingers flying between the escape cars and shooting down as many as they could. I made eye contact with one of my friends in another car - the flash as it exploded nearly took my eyes.. We were too close to their car when it went up, the explosion rocking us past two more cars before we finally straightened out. And when we were able to finally see straight again?

“The stingers had all started to retreat.” His first pause now, the young man smiling as he watched the younger kids grasp at one another. “What was happening..? Why would they shoot so many of us down if they were just going to leave? I clung to my mother, listening to her chant my father and Dr. Tucker’s name, begging some fate or another for them to hurry. Then.. The Drej’s mothership was floating toward the Earth, a great beam of light shooting out from the bottom!” Several gasps followed his pause, the brunette grinning at them as he lowered his eyes to them again.

“And there it was.. Our greatest hope, the ship that was meant to rocket us to the future, the Titan, shooting out past the debris. Flying off into the stars, never to be seen again..” Cho smiled fondly as the kids all started to chat excitedly, collecting the cups and shushing them once more so they could continue the story.

“But.. Where is it now?”

“No one knows. Dr. Tucker had to hide it somewhere safe, somewhere the Drej would never find it - and we know they haven’t because you still hear rumors of hunters trying to find it. So long as we have that ship.. We will always have a future.” A few minutes of silence followed as the kids all tried to picture the ship, Cho finally clapping her hands to catch their attention.

“Alright everyone, it’s time for bed. Come on - let’s go! Don’t give me those whimpers, it’s late enough!” She smiled as she watched Lynn - one of the youngest - jump up to hide, leaning forward to give the brunette a fond kiss on the top of the head as she detangled her daughter from his arms. “Go get some rest, Tony.. I’ll herd them into bed from here.”

“I will, Miss Cho.”

“Now, Tony - the reactors can wait until tomorrow. They’ve held on this long, they’ll hold on while you get a few hours of sleep!” She stared at him sharply until he laughed and agreed, gently rubbing the young one’s head.

“Tell me ‘bout your momma??”

“Heh, that.. Will have to be another story for another day, peanut. Go! Sleep!”

“Nini, Tony..”

The brunette chuckled and shook his head as the kids cleared out around him, slipping off the barrel and giving the stars one last look before turning to his door to get his tea. There were still a few things he had to take care of before he could sleep, but Cho was right - the reactors would be fine for the night. If he got up early maybe he could have them cracked properly by noon.

“So how old were you..?”

Tony glanced to the small couch, smiling shyly at the man stretched across it and bringing him some of the tea. “I was eight..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was thinking of expanding.. But this felt like a good place to cut the chapter. As good as any, at least..
> 
> Quote from Titan A.E. in the beginning of the movie "Once in a great while, mankind unlocks a secret so profound that our future is altered forever. Fire. Electricity. Splitting the atom. At the dawn of the thirty first century, we unlocked another. It had the potential to change humanity’s role in the universe. We called it the Titan project, and it was a testament to the limitless power of the human imagination." It is from the opening scene where Sam Tucker is talking about the impending attack, something like the first 3 minutes of the movie.


	2. That Damn Clicking Sound

_Tentacles. Six eyes. Red tinged, leathery, mostly brown skin. One weapon and one blade. Infrared goggles. Kunarian Stalker, maybe a past slave runner or a raider. Threat level three._

_Tall, lean. Wears some kind of helmet, probably has a comm unit and full HUD interface. Sex unknown, species unknown. Three - no, four weapons, plus at least two hidden blades. Mostly hidden, he noted with a small smirk. Potential to be a symbiote at least thirty percent, threat level six based off of weapons, posture, identity, and position._

_Average height, average looks, probably Xandarian, well muscled. Possibly a first mate or a lead negotiator, silver-tongued. Two guns, no visible blades. Threat level two. Scratch that, training negotiator - giving away the position of..._

_Aha, sniper. Threat level six. Definitely Xandarian, possibly enhanced. Wears a visor, one long barrel, two scopes, probably more ammo than should have been allowed on the docks. Smart, keeping back out of sight - too bad the kid is giving him away. Otherwise wouldn’t be able to tell they were from the same group._

Bucky yelped as he felt someone push into his shoulders, falling off his stool as his partner fell off the rafters above him. At least he didn’t slam into the bar. “Fucking hell - OWEN!”

The blonde in question grinned wide, he’d swear his face would split in two if he could grin any wider, before jumping up off Bucky’s back. “Sorry! Sorry! Lost, uhh - lost my footing!”

“You were checkin’ out the barista again, weren’cha?” Bucky smirked as Clint blushed, rolling his eyes and sitting up to call her over again. “Refill, and a Jumper for the punk.”

The Krylorian smiled sweetly at the both of them, bowing her head as she set about mixing the pair of drinks. “Twenty credits, Mister Martin. Would you like anything else? The next batch of Hylain loaves should be coming out now, or we also have a batch of jubee and lark stew. Fresh this morning.”

Clint winked happily at her, fishing through his pack for his card to transfer the credits. “How much for two of each?”

“Thirty five, sir. Please scan it here and I shall retrieve your food~”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gently smacked the back of his friend’s head as the blonde watched the waitress walk off, whimpering softly. “Damn.. You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen legs like that?!”

“Why ya need leggy-legs? You stare at mine and Tash’s all the damn time.”

“As much as I enjoy exploring your legs? Definitely prefer life over poking at Tash’s. Pretty sure Cap wouldn’t like me pissing her off, either. PLUS! You’d be stuck looking for a new wingman, because she’d kill me deader than dead if I tried it!”

Bucky smirked around his glass. “Really? Nothin’ about it bein’ like sleepin’ with your sister?” He grinned wider as Clint choked on his drink, the man giving him a very unimpressed look of ‘fuck you’.

“Know what? See if I scratch your back in the next six months!”

“Please, you’d get worse blueballs than I would.”

“Shh! My lady-love approaches!” Clint smacked his arm and gave his best grin to the barista as she returned, carrying the strange stew and the green loaves with her. At least they were filling, and if you could get over the strange smells and looks? It tasted pretty good. After a few more words exchanged between the two the barista left to tend to her other customers, the two men settling into their meal.

“You know, you think you’d get tired of alien bird and green meat bread.”

“Pretty sure lark is more of a reptile than a bird?”

“Hmm.. At least it’s already dead I guess, not like that shit they feed the guys at Tau 14.” Clint lowered his voice more now, poking at the strange stew before shoveling in a few more bites. “Heard a few more of the kids there got sick.. But they stopped letting hunters take them, decided human kids could be put to better use with some training. Win for us, I guess?” That earned him a noncommittal hum, the man focusing more on his drink than the food for now. “Saw you doing your spooky survey thing.. Anything to check..?”

“No.. Looks like a couple raiders, trying to cheat a vender outa’ their prices. Not doin’ a good job, though. Kid’s too green. Two sixes to keep an eye on, but nothin’ likely related to what we’re doin’. At most I’d say low-key raiders, maybe Ravager rejects. Can’t see them bein’ from HYDRA, AIM, or Gensec.”

Clint followed his queue, doing an obvious wide sweep of the area to hide what he was glancing at. “Hmm. Got it. Low rate, that's for sure. Well.. At least our shit’s almost lined up. I got one more job, Cap is finishing the last of the refuel and repair transfers, and Tash probably finished her shit after we all got outa’ bed.”

“What’s the damage?”

“Thirty thousand.” This time it was Bucky’s turn to choke on his drink. “I know - the mechanic is a crooked old bastard, but he was also the only one willing to put a rush on it. This’d be a hell of alot easier if we could just find our own damn mechanic.”

“You’re welcome to bring it up, I’m sure he’ll love the input. And the pay cut.”

“Yeah, like I’m getting into that damn fight with him - you’re the only one that can argue head to head with Cap. And you and I both know he wouldn’t care about the pay cut - none of us would.”

“He will because our resources are already tight! The kind of mechanic we’d need? Not gunna’ jump on for less than a hundred and fifty K a year. Especially with the risk of us all gettin’ our asses blown up.”

“Point.” Clint nodded as he finished his food, working on his drink and keeping his eyes on the crowd while Bucky ate now. He heard someone calling for ‘Mr. Owen’, smirking as he saw a young Krylorian run to him, winking at the kid and offering him a bit of the bread. “Hey kid! Astor have my tech done?”

“Yes, sir! She sent me to get you! Said that everything is good to go, and she’s not going to charge the full amount because most of your stuff didn’t need much more than a tune up.”

“Awesome! Alright, munchkin, we’re pretty much done here. How about you help Martin finish off his loaf and we’ll walk back with you?”

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly as he broke the bread, giving the larger chunk to the kid and helping him up to sit on the raised stools so he could finish eating.  
If the docks were a special kind of wary disorder, the streets of the connected city were more of a comfortable chaos. Aluthia was a large city by many means, but its place in the galaxy helped to boost its status as a natural trade and tech port. Anyone that wanted to make a name for themselves in this corner of the Andromeda Galaxy, for almost any line of business, somehow found their way to the gaseous planet Kryton. While it started as a small mining and trade community, it was now a major connections hub. The minerals and gasses naturally produced there made it a prime location for mechanics, engineers, and other specialists.

All kinds of professions touched base on Kryton, either for their known wares and services, or for their prevalent black market trade.

Bucky kept an eye on the crowds around them as he followed Clint and the young apprentice, the boy trying to remain professional despite his over excitement for finding and bringing back their customer. The main roads were always busy with people and vehicles, but the side roads that actually connected to all the businesses and neighborhoods? They always reminded Bucky of old China Town. Narrow paths connecting off an already narrow road, street vendors lined up outside the doors of smaller businesses, people shouting prices and wares, colorful linens and banners reaching up several stories to connect the tall buildings together - most of which housed any number of Aluthians. It was noisy, but a good kind of noise.

Lively, comfortable. It would actually be more concerning if there wasn’t any noise around them.

Clint followed the boy through the alleyway and down a pair of narrow paths, grinning as he jumped through the doorway to his shop. A small weapons repair shop owned and managed by a friendly old Sogowan named Astor. Bucky jumped to the side to avoid the large legs, Clint not managing to dodge the tech’s tail as she turned around.

“Well it’s about damn time! What, were you all asleep? Blondie I can see rutting in a corner, but I expected better of you, Soldier. Talon - go get the bags, and for god’s sake, don’t drop the satchel!”

Bucky laughed as Clint cursed, quickly moving to catch a gun that was knocked off a table by her tail. “Astor, you’re going to kill me!”

“You’ll be fine, blondie. You humans are far too squishy for a smack upside the head to kill you.”

“She got a point, man. Gotta’ have a brain to squish.” Astor’s laughter filled the room at that, Bucky joining in as Clint made various sputtering noises in response to their teasing.

“The hell do I come here for!?”

“Because Astor’s fun, sir?”

“Y’know what, shrimp? I-”

“Oh please, you know my boy is right. Here - take your shit, pay your fee, and get outa’ my hair. Next time you bring me half dead phasers I’m testing out my new cannon system on your pathetic ass!” The Sogowan turned her tail to smack Clint again, the man yelping and dropping to the floor to avoid it this time. Bucky just laughed as he flailed about, handing her his card to pay the bill. Barton could carry their shit back to the ship for revenge.

Astor turned on him then, leveling him with a firm stare. “Now, _Martin_. Don’t wait too long to get yourself in here, either. I can hear those servos groaning, and while I might not be the best equipped to do even the basic fixups on it? I don’t want you messing with other vendors. You know I’ll only charge you for the odd part or two.”

Bucky gave her an awkward smile, nodding to her. “I know, Astor.. Thanks..” He looked at his left side, his arm and hand hidden by the jacket and flight gloves he wore out in public. He didn’t like anyone seeing his enhancement, no one that could be an enemy at least. It took years for him to trust Astor with it. “It’s.. Hanging on. But I don’t think we’ll be coming back for a while, we’re set to go beyond Andromeda’s reach after we’re done here.”

He flinched at the Sogowan’s growel, giving a resigned sigh as he shucked his jacket and the gloves off - much to the delight of the apprentice, who ran off to fetch the tools she needed.

“Then you keep your ass quiet - that comment is for you, blondie - and YOU, _Martin_ , will sit still while I at least tend to those groaning parts! Won’t take long to at least check the wiring and lubricate anything that needs it.”

The servos groaned again as he flexed his arm, sitting on the chair in the back where she worked on all prosthetics. Bucky wasn’t the only one with a mechanical limb across the galaxy - not by far - but his was.. Different from anyone else’s. A twisted byproduct of mad curiosity, experimentation, and the desire to create the perfect weapon by HYDRA’s main branch.

Enhancements in themselves, while highly controversial, weren’t illegal. In fact, many species prided themselves on their ‘additions’ made to their soldiers, and some even changed their body parts just for the hell of it. Like some demented fashion statement. So long as the recipient went to a properly licenced and sanctioned alteration vendor, signed the proper documentation with all the fees attached, and was given the medical ‘all clear’ for the procedure? You could change any and all parts of your body.

If any of those requirements were missing or even slightly fuzzy, all of a sudden you were in the possession of an illegal alteration. Which could make even getting repairs for the damn thing nearly impossible without either using some kind of backwater method, making very, very good friends in strange places, or going through all the legal bullshit of being put in the victim pool. Which in itself wasn’t too bad, so long as you had a secure place to go.

For beings like humans? It was a sure-fire way to end up living in a gutter, as a slave, or if you were really lucky? You’d land some kind of job in a drifter colony. Any chances of you being able to legally work in any kind of ‘emotionally or otherwise high risk’ environment, which was pretty much the only job pool humans could pull from.

Experimentation brought it to a whole other level.

Some groups, like HYDRA or AIM, dabbled in both - very much so on the illegal side of the spectrum. Before Earth was lost, when the World Council started to fully realize the threat of the Drej, some groups began dabbling in the idea of creating Super Humans - weapons that could survive nearly any environment, with specialized equipment to help against any foe. Some people actually volunteered, but others? Groups like AIM and HYDRA didn’t get test subjects willingly, especially since the mortality rate was well into the nineties. They also didn’t bother with any kind of ethical practice.

Sure, the World Council fought against groups like that, but they weren’t any better. They tried just as many experiments on different people, often using their money and influence to ‘guide’ people into volunteering. Usually it was too late to back out once you’ve figured out you don’t want to be a science experiment.

After the attack, when humans were left to drift into the endless reaches of space toward extinction, these groups gained more support. More humans were taken, the experiments became more and more wild, and more Enhanced were born out of the kind of desperation that only results from fighting your own extermination. Some of the successes were added to their ranks to fight, others were sold into slavery, and still others wandered the galaxy as hunters, raiders, or scavengers.

Everyone else simply tried to survive, usually in the colonies, sometimes in small towns or outposts.

Bucky winced as he felt the last of the wires get pushed back into place, his fingers twitching as the artificial nerves tugged them. He didn’t know how they managed to connect the artificial nerves to the real ones, but they hurt worse than hellfire when they were tugged or pinched. With a short breath he managed to pull the feelings back in, his expression schooled back into the blank slate that came from years of being the Winter Soldier.

“There, there, almost done. A few more deep breaths for me, will you? You got those cords all clogged up by a few of your gears - aha! There we go. Now, just a bit of grease here, and.. There. All done. You can relax now, boy. Just need to slip all these plates back into order, and bend that dent out of your bicep, then you’re good for a polish and a run. Child! Get some of that tea!”

Bucky wanted to say that it wasn’t needed, but couldn’t muster the ability to string any syllables together. Clint gave him a sympathetic smile and helped Talon get the tea, carrying it to his friend and carefully telegraphing his movements so he didn’t startle him. Bucky simply nodded at him, slowly wrapping the fingers of his flesh hand around the hot mug as he tried to calm himself. By the time he had actually started to drink the tea Astor had finished the repairs and nearly finished buffing a sealant into the arm, polishing each plate.

“There you go, Barnes. All finished. And look at that - you look quite a bit like yourself again on top of it all. How do you feel?”

Bucky gave her a weak smile, nodding mutely as he finished his tea. Astor gently rubbed his head as she stood up, scolding Clint for a distraction while he gathered himself again. After a moment of rustling through one of the bags, Talon pulled out Bucky’s mask, gingerly hooking the small earpiece onto him. Within seconds the former assassin put the cup down and reached up to expand the device, sighing as it covered half his face, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

Steve hated what it represented. To Bucky? It was a lifeline. And not even because it doubled as an oxygen mask.

“Atta boy, hey blondie - come strap this shut. It’s about time for you two to move on. I’m getting that stalking feeling.”

“Great.. The same one that got us shot at six months ago?”

Clint groaned as she winked at him, glancing at Bucky and moving to strap everything properly before hoisting it onto his shoulders. She was very rarely wrong about this sort of thing, and they had learned early on to follow her advice. The mechanic hummed and bent down in front of Bucky after a few more minutes of fussing, checking over his eyes and nodding when she saw more of him than the panic.

“Good.. There you are.. You have to get up now, boy. Time to move. Take the back route by the warehouses, then cut through the side to the east market. That’ll get you back to the far end of the docks - they shouldn’t expect that route. Now get. And keep yourselves in one piece this time - I’m not getting any older, don’t need to spend weeks fixing your crap!”

Bucky finally chuckled and stood, feeling exhausted, slipping the other pack onto his shoulders and strapping it down. Running a finger over his sidearm he carefully stepped outside, his ears straining to catch any sound - any one that didn’t belong. “Alright. See ya ‘round, Astor..”

“Keep the legs bent! OW!”

“That’s not even slightly funny, _Owen_! If you haunt my doorstep again you best come with a sense of damn humor!! Or a wrench will be the smallest thing I toss at your squishy head!”

With a small chuckle - and one rather large goosebump - the two men made their way through the tight passages, eventually arriving at the warehouses. It was just far enough for them to start to consider relaxing.

And then there was that damn clicking sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cause cliffhangers are cool, right? Though really, the chapter was getting a bit long..


	3. Three, Two, One..

_A shadow, strive to be nothing more than a shadow, the prized ability of a stalker on the prowl._

_Soft footsteps, invisible hands, quiet breath. An extendable blade. A nod to the company around you - signaling to be ready. A silent leap, hand across a mouth. Resistance against the blade, sliding through the ribs. The victim’s muffled gasp, flexed muscles to catch the body as it falls. More silent footsteps._

_Clean your blade. Tuck it in. Search the bodies, loot their homes. Send the goods away to be sold._

_Find the next target._

Bucky managed to keep his muscles from tensing when he heard the click, his jaw clenching hard under his mask. He could feel Clint’s particular brand of relaxed-hyper-awareness beside him, no doubt hearing the same tells as he did. They both spent too long under the wire to not recognize some sounds for what they are.

They kept their pace and posture, stepping further into the warehouse district towards the sounds of workers and machines. Getting closer to more people could be enough to make the attacker nervous - nerves breed mistakes. They would have bigger problems than being attacked depending on the opponent’s experience.

It all happened at once - three figures falling from a shipping crate, two on each side, one from behind. _That answers that. New AND stupid._ Bucky dropped into a crouch to catch one in the stomach with his shoulder, his arm whirring as he used it to catch the blade aimed for his gut. With a quick turn he felt more than heard the sound of the second attacker’s blade slamming into his partner, tossing his body back and yanking the knife out of the dying alien’s holder. His flesh arm gripped at one of the top attackers, turning the blade on it and slashing at its throat before spinning on his heal, the knife flying from his hands to embed itself into the second’s helmet.

Perks of having a robotic arm.

Clint reacted the same as Bucky, albeit much slower than his fully enhanced partner. He took on one of the top assailants first, trusting Buck to catch the second, and used its body to drive into one of the right attackers. His second twisted to the side and lunged forward, catching Clint on the shoulder with its blade while Clint threw his flesh shield to the third, hearing the click of another blade and jumping back before it could drive into his collar. His hand shot to his side for his own blade, wishing he had his bow - he left the thing back at their ship to go ‘incognito’ - and using it to block the attacker’s second weapon.

His leg flew out from under him, the third having dealt with Clint’s distraction and lunging for him again, pure rage radiating from the muscles under the exosuit. Bucky flew past him to get to Clint’s second attacker, trusting him to finish off the one currently landing on top of him. The blond twisted his body, rolling off on his side and planting his foot against the edge of a container to propel himself forward. He gripped the attacker’s wrists, slamming his forehead against their helmeted head - instantly regretting that decision - and pinning it to the ground.

Wrestling the hold was the easy part. Activating the knife in his boot? Less easy. Nevertheless he managed to push himself up enough to stab the attacker in the leg, using the pain of the action as another distraction and taking the chance to drive his own blade under the helmet by its neck, savagely cutting into its skull.

Distantly he could hear the _ping_ of a bullet against metal, knowing Bucky was getting their straggler. There were a few more sounds before the sound of another body hitting the floor, the telltale noises of a struggle filling the silence that would have followed. Clint didn’t bother looking up until there were boot scuff sounds, smirking as Bucky dragged the last attacker toward them. They wouldn’t need to hide the bodies - ‘cleanup’ crews were common in places like this - but it did make life a little easier to have everything piled, so to speak. Plus then it gave them a chance to loot the corpses.

Never pass up on free gear.

“Y’know, I’m telling Astor that you headbutted someone next time we’re in.”

“Ha - she’ll still say my head’s squishier than a slug!” Clint looked around with tired eyes, already wishing they were back at their ship so he could curl up in bed. After they let Nat yell at them for getting hurt, at least. “Don’t look like nothing special.. I’m not seeing any faction emblems or trademarks.. Aha - nevermind, on the blade. That dumb thieves guild that’s been trying to insert themselves?” He snorted a bit at his friend’s blank stare, Bucky checking over the cuts in his jacket to see how deep they went. “Ooor you’ve never heard of them. Ok. That works.”

“Gunna’ share or talk shit?”

“Rude. Ok. So, normally the black market here is supplied by shady dealers and different thieves guilds? Except, for the last hundred years or so it’s been mostly controlled by the same main dealers and two guild groups - Hythians, a mashup of different species with no real consistent outfits-”

“Only you’d make a style comment here.”

“-aaaaand the Xuntau. From what I’ve found? The higher-ups are all wealthy bastards with ties to the Xandarians, Karynthians, and Numarians. All of them have connections with the Akrennians, mostly slave traders, and a few bad names in the Sogowans. The last few years though, smaller factions - like the Stalkers, have been trying to push themselves in. Make a better name for themselves, get their stock up, fill their pockets, find-”

“They’re new, they suck, they have no clue what they’re gettin’ into. Got it. Movin’ on.”

“Snippy, ain’cha’? They move in small-ish groups, and they like to check in with one another every few hours. Meaning we should get our asses out of here before their buddies decide to come looking. Good news, though? We shouldn’t have to worry about any symbiotes here. No one really wants to deal with the Klyntar since most people here are corrupt bastards.”

Bucky hummed softly, giving the bodies one more once-over and tucking away any gear they could easily get their hands on. At best they would be useable or sellable, at worst they could be scrapped for parts and materials. “Think they scoped us?”

“Definitely. My bet? Someone recognized us on the docks. Sold us out. Or they just figured we’d make good targets, make a few extra credits. All done, come on.”

Bucky nodded again, slinging the pack back onto his shoulder and tucking off to the side of the shipyard. He didn’t feel like bumping into any staff. While they wouldn’t waste time on the blood on their clothes - few people would on this planet - he didn’t feel like dealing with more people than necessary. Not while he was still high-strung from the repairs, and the jacket had large enough tears in the arm to hint at the glinting silver underneath.

Very few humans bore that particular trademark of his on this side of the galaxy, and they didn’t need the extra attention.

By time they actually made it back to the docks he had started to relax again, feeling the eyes in the shadows still following them. Casing them. The blood on their clothes would be more than enough warning for them not to try anything again too soon - if ever - and not even a new group would be stupid enough to try something in such a crowded area. Bucky took a long, slow breath into his mask, flexing his left hand against the strap of the bag as they made their way through the crowds.

The docks were a confusing mix of smells and sounds - ‘street food’ vendors stood along the loading bays, selling their ‘food’ alongside your classic hucksters. Wise men stayed away from both. Further in one could find a long series of bars, shops, hostels, and alien bathhouses. The perfect places to rest, recover, and fish for information or contracts. Separating the docks from the rest of the city were various processing companies. Mechanics for ship repairs, loggers for importing or exporting mass goods, keepers for immigration relations, a few embassies and security offices, and some legal contract hubs. Head north along the docks and you reach a series of processing plants, head south and you get to the main shipyard.

The bays themselves were more interesting, in Bucky’s opinion. The docks were built on top of a major crater in the planet’s surface, a series of RAD shields helping to keep the artificial atmosphere in where it belonged while ships and transports launched. Deep into the crater itself was where the mechanics played - large bays hollowed out in the walls of the crater, passages, rooms, and supply facilities tunneling deep into the rock under the city. As far as he was concerned the top level was for show - for tourists, children, and green fliers. All the really cool tech was hidden underground.

Bucky sidestepped around one of the more questionable vendors as they made their way back to their port, grinning under his mask when he glanced at Clint. The blonde was biting the inside of his cheeks as they quickly passed, clearly doing everything he could to keep a straight face. The instant they were in their elevator though he groaned, refusing to look down at the translucent slime on his shoe. “Fucking hell, is everyone else just scent-blind!?”

“Aww c’mon, birdbrain. Giant slugs are all the rage across Andromeda.”

“They should _NOT_ be selling food. Or be above ground. Ever.” The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up, the only things stopping him from gagging at the smell being the lifetime of training and the mask.

“Think that’s bad? Wait until Tash smells you. That stink don’t go away fast.”

Clint felt the blood drain from his face.

Bucky focused on the feel of the elevator moving down, closing his eyes and relaxing against the wall. When he opened them again the stone behind the glass walls of the elevator had given away to a large bay, containing a large surface ship currently being gutted for repair. Lifts were positioned around her, mechanics and assistants running around with parts and tools, shouting at one another in who knew how many different languages. Even with his improved memory, he could live a few lifetimes and never learn all the languages in the galaxy. The next bay had a set of crawlers - a vehicle used for surface exploration and mineral retrieval. The next few bays down were empty, and the last on the lift held their ship.

_The Avenger_

While it was still - barely - classified as a small ship, it was still large enough to house their crew, several stingers, a couple of scavengers, and enough equipment and supplies to last them all six months of fairly comfortable living. Each of the eight members had their own chambers, common living and gym spaces, a small medbay, a currently underused workshop, decontamination room, and a room currently set aside as a ‘meditation’ room. Even then there were still a few unused rooms. The observation deck was Steve’s favorite, Bucky preferred shifting between the meditation and common rooms, and the others all had their own favorites. The only thing that was a frequent complaint was that the bathroom sucked. It was too small, especially for the large soldiers.

Clint hummed happily as he looked over the side of the sleek ship, noting that the hole that was in the hull had been repaired and sealed. The old crook even painted! Keeping an eye out for their teammates he slipped out of the elevator, carrying the gear back to the ship and - after a quick nod to one of the engineers - slipped inside, making a beeline for decontamination. Bucky just snorted and picked up the bag that was abandoned in the hall, reaching up to collapse his mask on his way to the medbay. Might as well patch himself up before the others arrived.

He didn’t feel like facing the Captain America Stare of Disapproval.

The brunette’s jaw tightened as he put the duffles down, peeling himself out of his torn jacket. He couldn’t help but give it a small, sad frown - that kind of leather was hard to get your hands on without trading an arm - _ha_ \- for it. After a few moments of digging through the cupboards Bucky found the antiseptic spray and bandages, lifting a scanner to the already healing gashes on his arm and torso to check for toxins. After he got the greenlight he sprayed them down and bound them, carrying his shirt and jacket with him to the workshop so he could unpack the bags and sort out everyone’s equipment. The crap they lifted off the Stalkers could be dealt with later, probably when they were annoyed with other repair work.

Just as Bucky was finishing putting his own gear back in his locker he heard the door _swish_ open, glancing over his shoulder to see the displeased redhead carrying a large pack of her own. “The Carters are bringing more, we found some good prices on scrap and raws. Should be more than enough to repair our gear and make emergency ammo. Should have a couple of crates delivered in a few minutes with just ammunition as well - phaser refills, casings, the works. Why do I smell like ammonia?”

“Clint.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, looking over his bandages and picking up the torn jacket and bloodstained shirt. Peggy was the best at fixing this kind of thing, while Sharon did better with soldering work. They stopped trusting Steve to help with emergency repairs the first time he blew up a torch - they tended to toss him in the kitchen instead. “He gets that shit in my room and I’m using your knives to hang his intestines from the hangar door.”

“Wait - why MY knives?!” He tried not to flinch when her stare somehow got sharper. That was damn creepy. Seriously. If looks could maim or otherwise cause bodily harm.

“Because _you_ let him step in it. I’ll see if Pegs can fix this. Clint better be in the medbay when I’m done.”

“Y’know, Clint gets inta’ shit well enough even WITH someone watchin’ his ass!” Despite his protests though, Bucky was quickly vacating the room to search for their friend. He didn’t doubt Nat’s willingness - or ability - to drop any one of them when in the mood.

Finding Clint wasn’t actually that hard, not in comparison to dragging him to medbay when he knew Natasha was there. He had finished in decontamination - his boots and pant leg were as clean as they were going to get short of burning them - and taken a shower, scrubbing himself clean. That particular slime was known for seeping its stink through clothing in minutes, and if not cleaned off quickly could stain your skin for days. So really, finding him was as easy as walking past the bathroom and waiting for him to step out in a towel. Bucky was convinced there was a small part of Natasha that enjoyed stitching up her teammates. It gave her the chance to inflict a small amount of pain for worrying her, while at the same time allowing her to care for the people she cared about.

Too bad it still didn’t save them from Steve’s puppy eyes.

By time Brock and Sam made it back to the ship, the last of the restocking was complete and two of Kryton’s suns had already set. Takeoff was relatively smooth, the ship clearing the docks and RAD shields to tackle the planet’s limited atmosphere. Because it was a smaller planet as well they didn’t really have to worry too much about fighting gravity - not that they would have to worry too much about it with her fuel efficiency anyway.

The Soldier sighed as he stretched out on his cot, thumbing his fingers over the book in his hands. This would be the longest trip they had planned thus far, with only the occasional stop here and there to refuel on their way to the Iron Fields - a sea of various debris - in the Novus sector. Most Scavengers didn’t bother going there because of how out of the way it was, and because of the ion storms that frequented the sector. There were very few ports or stations they could restock at, and even fewer that would be able to offer much fuel, so they would be setting up in one spot for the next eight months to work while keeping an ear out for word from Coulson.

He watched the stars out of his small window, tilting his head slightly when his door opened and Clint’s familiar steps filled the silence in the room. Wordlessly he shuffled to the side on the bed, rearranging the pillows and blanket so Clint could slip under the covers and curl up beside him, resting his head on Bucky’s flesh shoulder. Seemed like he managed to get all the slime-stink off at least.

“Tasha’s still mad..”

“She’s just worried.. Doesn’t like seein’ ya hurt..”

Clint hummed softly, closing his eyes as the older man started carding his fingers through his hair. He loved cuddling, spent most nights spread between his, Bucky’s, or Natasha’s room. And if once in awhile the two men decided to do more than just comfort..? Well, that was how things worked in space. You took your comfort where you could get it, and neither one of them were willing to sleep with their ‘siblings’. He was sure Steve would probably laugh it off, and while it was tempting to try with Natasha? Bucky valued his life, and limbs, in their proper order.

“Stevie makin’ a move on Peggs yet..?” Clint sleepily opened his eyes, yawning softly.

“Slipped away after dinner.. Brock ‘nd Sam’re trading flirting tips.. Sharon might kill them if they don’t lay off, if Peggs doesn’t get ‘em first..”

Bucky laughed, continuing to gently scratch his scalp as he reached to his table to put the book down. “Yeah, but she’d be bored if they both died in the middle o’nowhere. Can’t see them dyin’ for good any time soon.” He shifted on the bed to get a bit more comfortable, watching the stars shoot past the window. “Gunna’ be another long one.. Get some sleep. Gotta’ start work on the stingers tomorrow.”

“But - but I’m injured! Don’t be cruel!”

He smirked, closing his eyes while Clint pouted and pretended to be insulted. “Start dodging better, then. An’ stop whining. Or I’ll drag ya to the gym instead of the hanger.”

“Ass.”

“Shhh.”


	4. Altercation

Bucky growled in time to the crack of the pick breaking the iron-heavy asteroid, pulling it out of the small hole he had slowly been carving into the side. Turning it over in his hands a few times, shining the light on his helmet on it, and Bucky finally gave a soft sigh. _Damn.. No good.._ He had been working on this damn rock for two days now, and while he had collected plenty of iron and other raw materials? He hadn’t found much of any of the reactive minerals they needed.

Uranium, plutonium, copper, vanadium - anything that could be used for energy conversion, metalworking, or medicine production, really. He carried the bag of breakoff he had collected back to his stinger, and more importantly the setup he had anchored to the rock below it. After carefully loading up the compressor on one end he checked the grinder, the filters, and the storage compartments. These machines definitely made his life easier. It used a series of filters, pressurized pulses, and melting devices to separate materials from the hunks of scrap he dumped into the compression chamber.

Pain in the ass to set up, but definitely a time saver since it meant he didn’t have to carry a ton of rock or scrap back to the ship to process it.

Bucky pulled open the storage compartment, carefully sorting out the pressed cubes into the storage box below so he could start up the machine. “Hawkeye, come in.” He lifted the heavy box and carried it into his stinger, making sure that none of his things floated out the small hatch door as he entered. He usually remembered to put everything away, but sometimes.. Well. No one is perfect. “Hey, birdbrain! Your comms on?”

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m here! What? Busy working!”_

He chuckled as he strapped down the box with the others, lifting an empty one and carrying it out. “On my last box. You outa’ breath over there?”

_“Fuck. You. Not everyone has super-muscles, you know. Sex appeal or no, I kind of hate you for them.”_

“Suuure ya do,” he drawled, grinning under his mask and clipping the empty box to the boot of his setup. “Got plenty of lead, a little vanadium, maybe some zinc. Nothin’ else really useful, though. Have to head back soon to resupply. How’s your food?”

_“Low. And I took less than _you_ did, don’t know how you and Cap keep up to that metabolism.”_

“Supplements?”

_“Seriously? And I **kissed** that mouth?! Gross!”_

“Dunno’ how y’missed it. Not like we’ve been keepin’ it secret.”

_“Powders are not the way to go, handsome! Anyway, best head back soon on my end too. Burner’s almost outa’ gas. Two good crates left though, I can always bring you one?”_

The soldier hummed and glanced over his machine, checking the fuel levels. “Naah, mine’s almost out, too. What’d you find?”

The comms were silent for a minute, Bucky assuming Clint was just looking over his stock.

_“Crapton of iron, some copper, and maaaybe some gold flecks? Dunno - those are so few the machine might obliterate them trying to get to them. Unless there’s more inside I can’t see. Got a bunch cut and ready to process, just gotta’ hope the fuel lasts until then. You’re only a couple clicks away, right? I should come dump my stuff on you!”_

“Don’t try it, birdboy. Just finish what you got, the rest you can shove in storage and process when we get back. Just keep your helmet on. Don’t need you catching some space-rock-disease.”

 _“I’m not **that** squishy.”_ He chuckled to himself as he gathered his supplies, walking back to the hole so he could make it a bit deeper. _“Hopefully the others found something better. Cap mentioned we were running low on fuel last time we were there.”_

“Tell me about it..” Bucky sighed and worked on chipping out some more of the asteroid, making a note to leave a tracker on this particular rock so they could come back to it later. Lead sold for a pretty damn good price, so they might as well load up as much as they could get their hands on before docking somewhere.

_”Hey, three months isn’t bad! That’s longer than most scavengers make it. Probably has something to do with us camping so much.”_

“Yeah, pretty sure we’re the only ones stupid enough t’work like this.”

As far as he knew, they really _were_ the only ones willing to bunker down in a potentially volatile environment. They parked their ship somewhere, paired up, and headed out in small groups in stingers or scavengers with enough supplies for a couple of nights of work, then bolted the small craft on whatever they were taking apart for supplies. The stingers at least had enough floor for Bucky to put out a bedroll, but the scavengers? Whoever got stuck with them would be sleeping in the pilot’s seat. Which was why they tended to only take the stingers, calling out for a scavenger on an as-needed basis. Then whoever was piloting it could take it, and whatever they were picking up, back to the ship.

 _”Stupid, oooor.. Brave?”_ Bucky snorted, shaking his head. It was a shame they couldn’t use cutters on asteroids - would make this a hell of alot faster. Was too dangerous though, especially with the whole potentially-explosive-materials bit.

_“Stupid is stupid, no matter the intent. Just because you wouldn’t know it if it hit you in the face-”_

_”Hey! Private line, jackass!”_

_”Then use a goddamned private channel, idiot!”_

Bucky laughed, glancing up from his work to see one of the stingers fly past. “Missed you too, Bones. Where’s Falcon?”

_”Ahead. He was a bit further up, so he won’t pass you guys. Some of the fuel problem is solved, kids! **I** found enough shit to make a couple plates for the fuel cells-”_

_”Not a competition, jackass!!”_

_”-Should tie us over a few more days, gives us a bit longer to stock up.”_

Bucky laughed and called out to Clint to calm him down, the man sputtering into his comms before finally quietening. That was good - it’d give them just over a week to get to a station. Which meant one last, good trip out after a quick restock and refuel. “Alright, going to pack up and get ready to head out. Machine should be finished the last load now. Hawkeye, you about done?”

_”All set, unbolting now actually. Takeoff in twenty. Need me to wait?”_

“Nope. Pack up and head off, I should be firing up by time you pass. Shutting comms off. Out.” 

True to his word, it didn’t take him more than twenty minutes to hike back to his site and bolt a tracker under the surface while the machine cooled. By time he finished unpacking his equipment and loading it up he heard his partner’s stinger wiz past, not bothering to look up as he locked down and pressurized his cockpit. Once it was stable and he was seated, the soldier reached up to mess with his helmet, the head casing collapsing from around his head back into the somewhat bulky goggles he wore over his muzzle, deciding to leave at least the muzzle on while he flew.

Navigating through the Iron Fields was almost relaxing, despite the obstacles. It was far on the outskirts of Andromeda, containing all kinds of asteroids, meteors, ship and satellite debris, and the remains of broken planets. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would come across old pods that had been jettisoned from dying ships, stations, or colonies. Though, whether or not that was actually lucky was up to the person that found it. More often than not the capsules had corpses in them, along with whatever possessions the inhabitant. Sometimes they just held junk. Other times, sensitive materials that had been dumped either to hide or protect them, their trackers fizzing out after the pod’s power died. Bucky had found a bunch of old disks in one of them once, the human that was frozen inside having wanted to keep a part of their culture with her.

Despite this, the fields themselves were almost.. Beautiful. The debris - which reached so far you could probably hide a few planets in their midst - were held in the same vicinity for millions of years, slowly shifting and floating about in a constant, slow swirl of movement. One rock that was there now might be on the other end of the field a year later, or lost in the middle, or perhaps just a few clicks over. The ‘currents’ that moved them were caused by the dwarf and neutron stars on other ends of the fields, the entities constantly battling against the system’s ‘sun’ - a great, blue giant named Alcyone - for gravitational control of anything caught drifting into their pull.

From where _The Avenger_ was camped they had the ability to watch the slow push and pull of debris, silently dancing past one another like a slow breeze over a grass field.

He banked hard around one of the last rocks as he came up on their camp site, picking up speed as soon as he was free of the debris field to catch up to Clint’s stinger. By time the both of them landed in the hanger Brock and Sam were nearly finished unloading, Steve grinning at them as he dropped a container on one of their trollies. The contents of each box would have to be sorted into labeled crates and stored until they got to a station they could sell them to. Then each of the stingers could load their bins up again and take off while Steve - mostly Peggy and Sharon, actually - broke down the raws and utilized what they could to restock some of their supplies.

Steve moved to grasp Bucky’s forearm, always happy to see his friend return safe. “Hey, food’s almost done. You guys got in just in time. Anything good?” Bucky grinned back at him, squeezing Steve’s arm before remembering he needed to take the mask and goggles off so he could see his face. Whoops.

“Not really. Some vanadium, mostly iron. Brought back a bunch’a raws. Clint brought some back too. We’ll go deeper after we’re stocked up. Brock mentioned that he found cell supplies?”

“Yeah, Peg says she can make three cells out of them. Four if she finds a couple more grams of.. Whatever it was she needed. Gives us an extra week for a buffer. And you aren’t going _anywhere_ tonight. You’re eating, showering, and sleeping.”

Bucky felt the corners of his mouth turn up again, giving him an incredulous look as he tucked his headgear into his side bag. “Where you get off tellin’ me that, punk?” Steve punched his shoulder playfully before turning to get the other trolley so they could start to unload.

“Tryin’ to take care of you, jerk,” he laughed, walking up the ramp to help unload the heavy crates. “Besides, not even we can go long on fumes. If anything, you’ll have to stay for Clint to rest. Peg might string you up if you decide to slip out, too - don’t think she won’t.”

“Tasha will save me.”

Steve snorted, muttering for him to ‘keep telling yourself that’ as he lifted another box and carried it out. Bucky figured he was right. Natasha would probably hold him down. Or stab him herself.

Once the trolley was full Bucky moved to push it, taking it down to the workshop where their larger processing machine was set up. He smirked as he heard the two voices arguing inside - Sharon wasn’t impressed with Peggy vetting her (lack of) love live, and Peggy wasn’t happy with her niece’s options. He tried to slip in without disturbing them, placing the trolley off to the side before grabbing his mask, doing his best to stay silent while the women argued.

“You can’t keep me secluded forever! And I don’t plan on being single forever, either!”

“And someday you will find someone, you will! But I will not have you sleeping with any of the men on this ship!”

“Why _not_?! I like Brock, he likes me, it doesn’t have to be anything serious if either of us don’t want it to!”

“Because he is too damn old for you, that’s why!”

“Oh, so Brock - who is _maybe_ around ten years older than I am, is too old for me but _you_ can pine after someone as old as Steve?!”

Bucky raised his eyebrow, looking for a small screwdriver to pry open his filter pannell on his mask. So it was _that_ kind of argument again. Not that he could really blame either woman, he didn’t like Brock at first either. And Sharon was Peggy’s niece, which must have made it a lot harder for both of them. Personally, he didn’t see why Sharon and Brock couldn’t roll around. Brock was a good guy, once you got past the whole asshole-ness he seemed to bathe in. He was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t hear Peggy’s British tilt aimed at him.

“-ames? James!”

Bucky jumped and blinked, his eyes focusing on the woman now standing beside him - Sarah had started unpacking the raws to place into the larger filtering machine. “Huh? What?”

“You’re the more responsible head on this ship, you tell her! You’ve seen how he looks around when off ship!” He groaned, _really_ not wanting to get himself impaled on something via one angry brunette.

“C’mon, Peggs.. Don’t bring me in on this.. Where’s the spare filters?” Peggy huffed as Sharon muttered to herself, silently - and wasn’t _that_ a precursor to a deadly consequence later on - looting through the cupboards to get at the replacement filters for the oxygen masks. He figured he’d take a couple spares for the trip, both for him and clint. The soldier sighed as she thrusted it into his hands, leaning against the counter so he could watch them while he worked - best to face the threat instead of being turned around when something might fly at your head.

“Look, I’m not going to talk about Stevie? He’s practically my brother - thinkin’ ‘bout his lovelife more than the fact that he actually _needs_ one isn’t somethin’ I feel much like doin’? But really, there’s no harm in anyone rollin’ around. And Brock isn’t actually that bad. Dunno’ why you two fight so damn much. Bet if I locked ya both in a room for a day or two you’d end up likin’ one another.” Or they’d kill one another. One of the two.

“Peg.. Look - if she’s really serious about this, I’ll give him the shovel talk. An’ so will Stevie.” He ignored Sharon’s huff of annoyance to continue on, Peggy not looking happy either. “You should go an’ date Stevie too, Peggs. He adores you, and I’m pretty damn sure Brock’s over the moon for Sharon. None of ya have to take it too serious, just.. Try it out. Roll around a bit. Maybe wait for full-blown sex until we actually find some condoms, maybe the next station’ll actually still make them. Whatever ya do? I don’t see the harm in havin’ a little fun. Company is a good way t’stay sane out here. You know that. Hell, Clint an’ I roll around often enough, and it’s not serious for either of us. Just a bit of fun.”

Peggy groaned as Sharon moved to Bucky, the man tensing up as she quickly grabbed him to pull him down into a hug - with a kiss on the cheek - that left him standing confused. “THANK you! I’m going to go get the next cart. I need some damn air.”

The soldier blinked awkwardly as she left, trying to focus on replacing the thin filter chip in the front of the mask instead of the fact that his friend was trying to calm herself down. More so hoping she didn’t stab him for undermining him. Peggy Carter and Natasha Romanov were two women to fear, especially this far into Deep Space. Eventually he heard her sigh, opening the compression compartment to put more of the rock chunks inside and starting to catalogue what materials - other than iron - were brought in and could be used, or what was to be stored.

“I just.. Worry about her.. She’s all the family I have left, James..”

Tension he didn’t know he had bled out of his shoulders from the quiet admission, the man putting his mask and the screwdriver down so he could move over to gently hug her. He never used to be able to go out of his way to hold people like this, not since the Winter Soldier program, but with his friends - his crewmates - it had become a lot easier over the last seven years.

“I know.. She knows you care, and she cares about you too. Just.. Give somethin’ else a shot, ok? You don’t have to put life on hold ‘cause you’re scared to lose what you got.. You can enjoy the here an’ now as well. Give it a shot, will ya? Or let Sharon do it, and take your time thinkin’ it over for now. Stevie and I’ll keep an eye out for her too, an’ so will Tasha.”

She smiled slightly, hating that he was making sense right now, and patted his bicep before pushing him off. “Fine.. You win! I..” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I will let things be as they are apparently destined to be. In the meantime.. I expect that shovel talk of yours to be good! Leave your mask here, I will finish clasping the filter in for you. Get out of my workshop. Shoo!”

Bucky chuckled and kissed the top of her head, ducking away from her as Peggy moved to swat at him. As soon as he was out of range he went back to the hanger, fully intending to give Brock his talk right then and there so he didn’t forget. Steve apparently beat him to it, though. He grinned as he walked in to see the two of them talking alone, Brock quickly nodding his head - apparently just agreeing to anything at this point - and Steve _politely_ informed him that Sharon was a good young lady.

He could barely keep himself from laughing as Brock’s body tensed, Steve giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning to get one of the last carts. The rest had been taken to the hall outside the workshop, waiting to be sorted and processed. With a smirk he took a breath, schooling his face back into the expressionless mask he wore for nearly seventy years before speaking up. Steve did most of the talking for him - all he had to do was hammer the point home with a few choice words, a dead expression, and the flat voice of the Soldier.

“Hey, Rumlow.” Brock’s body tensed even more, if that was even possible at this point, and he turned to look at Bucky. He laughed inwardly at how Brock’s face seemed to instantly lose more of its color. “Just remember who trained the dancers in the Red Room.” His face then broke into his more usual grin, allowing his inner Brooklyn Boy back into his voice as well. “See ya at dinner~!”

He turned and left the hangar before Brock could recover - and before he could burst out laughing - hearing his friend fall into step behind him as he pushed the last of the trollies. “Ok - let me just say? That was H-O-T!”

“Hey, Clint.”

“Yeowch, just ‘hey’? No jumping? No sassing? No swooning?”

“Gunna’ have to work a lot harder t’sneak up on me if you want me to jump, Hawkass. And I only swoon for _tall_ brunettes or blondes.”

“... Well, I got the sass at least. What’s the plan?”

Bucky smirked and winked at him, continuing to push the cart and locking its magnetic holders into place against the wall when they got close enough to the workshop. “So far? Help sort all this shit, move more shit for the gals, eat, shower, pack, maybe fuck, and sleep. Tomorrow we head out deeper. Grabbed some extra filters for you. Might wanna’ change your current one. Mine was damn near burnt out. Get up early t’check the stingers, then head out. Think ya can keep up?”

Clint snorted at him, crossing his arms with a sly grin. “Bossy~! Last I checked? _You’re_ the fossel, not me. I finished checking them over, they don’t need any work. Final flight check should be all that’s left in the morning. Cells are charging great, too. Not sure I’m up to the sex, though - damn tired after all that.”

“What makes ya think I was talkin’ about you?” Bucky gave him a wild grin as he was flipped off, Clint wiping imaginary dust off his shoulder before pushing off the wall to walk away.

“Yeah - I’ll tell Sam you’re expecting a visit~! See ya later, asshole. I’m getting to work!”

With a huff Bucky followed him, easily falling into familiar smalltalk with the others as they worked on sorting the processed cubes and stacking the materials into the industrial transport crates for storage. Each cube had to be scanned, weighed, marked, and catalogued before being carefully stacked for the shipment. Only after it passed the density and purity scans could it be marked, and not a single cube could be skipped in the process. The merchants tended to get worse than pissy if you sold them something of lower quality, or mixed something in that didn’t belong. The crates themselves were stacked and tied down in the hangar, saving the storage rooms for their supplies and whatever products they could make on-ship.

Dinner itself was as good as it could get, even with Steve’s cooking skills. There was only so much even he could do with dehydrated ingredients, most of which half the crew could barely pronounce. The company was always worth it, though. Natasha had found out that Sharon had given in, and spent the entirety of dinner giving wordless threats to Brock in the form of hand signs, eye motions, and some slightly-more-than-aggressive utensil fiddling. At one point they had teamed up to intimidate the poor man.

Sharon didn’t go without teasing either, Steve giving her the ‘dad talk’ - Captain America Issue - and Sam did his best to whine about all the girls flocking to the ‘bad boys’ of the crew. Which turned into a razzing session for Clint, which Bucky happily joined.

By time they were finished and the common area was cleaned up, Bucky was almost too tired to bother showering. He still did - he just wished he was in bed while he was doing it. Water was something they didn’t have to worry too much about since they had a state of the art recycling and filtration system, and it wasn’t hard to gather liquid from outside either. Ice chunks in debris fields were fairly easy to come across, and if they couldn’t find those chunks they would still be able to gather water from the vapor clouds in the colder regions of space - which were practically everywhere this far out.

When he was finished he was treated to not one, but two bodies cuddled up in his small bed. He let out a small huff of a laugh, yawning around his fist and digging through his drawer for some pants. Natasha gave him a disapproving frown when he finally came over, not wanting to move but poking Clint in the ribs to rouse him enough for them to rearrange themselves in the cot. It was surprisingly comfortable.

“Any reason why you’re both here..?” Bucky yawned, pulling the blanket up to tuck around the three of them.

“He didn’t want to sleep alone.. Couldn’t choose who he wanted to cuddle with.. Sleep.. Talk later..”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, ignoring the small, threatening huff he was rewarded with from the assassin. Sharing a bed with multiple people didn’t bug him, it never did. He just wished they had a bigger damn bed.

Bucky yawned again, finally settling down with the assassin and his fellow sniper half on his chest, both fast asleep. He tried to keep his eyes open for a bit longer, watching the debris field slowly shift in the distance. It wasn’t something you could catch with a glance, and being able to see the small, subtle shifts came with months of exposure. It was relaxing, and while normally Bucky could stare for hours? Tonight he was asleep within minutes.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be having too much fun staring at space pictures, taking notes, nerding out with friends about different star classes, properties of ion storms, and the possibilities of resource collection in deep space..
> 
> -deep breath- SPAAAAAACE!
> 
> So! Alcyone? It is an actual star! It is a blue giant in the Pliades open cluster (also part of the constellation of Tarus), and is supposedly part of one of the closest clusters to Earth! Well.. This is broken for the purposes of spacey fanfiction, but hey! Was a cool fact I felt like sharing!
> 
> Here's a link on star classification if anyone is interested~ http://www.enchantedlearning.com/subjects/astronomy/stars/startypes.shtml 
> 
> Also - SPACE ICE AND VAPORS ARE TOTALLY A THING! If you guys want to read up on some of it, here's a link! I'm looking for more because this is cool stuff!! http://www.astrobio.net/topic/deep-space/cosmic-evolution/cold-clouds-and-water-in-space/
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to keep nerding out over space things and slowly keep writing! Feedback is always appreciated, or if anyone has any spacey things they want me to look up and try to incorporate? Drop a comment below and I will see what I can do! I am a lover of all things science, so really it doesn't just have to be space related, I'll look it up anyway :D
> 
> I have lots of ideas for integrated biotech, spacey elements, and enhancements, just have to figure out what I want to do with them for the story.
> 
> I wasn't sure how this kind of story was going to be taken, so I'm really happy to see people like it so far! Hope you guys are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it! (I swear this is keeping me sane some days)
> 
> Cheers!


	5. Starstruck

Clint cursed when his head hit the top of the console, quickly reaching up to wrap his hands around the site of what would surely be a great goosebump. Hearing his friend burst out laughing just riled him up more. “GODDAMNIT! BARNES!”

“S-sorry, Clint! Your head alright?” Bucky ducked out of the way as the sniper’s foot shot out to kick him, grinning ear to ear and backing out of his stinger. “Hey! I said sorry!”

“Fuuuuck - you gotta’ stop sneaking up on me! For christ sake! You’re going to DESTROY my damn heart! You kill me and Tasha will scalp you!”

“Hmm. Might just boil him, keep his skull and the arm for trophies. Scalping is messy. What’d you do to my коллибри?”

“Scared ‘em. What’d you do with my arm and a skull?” He tried not to flinch at her wicked - and yet somehow still sweet - smile.

“The arm I could use as a table end, and skulls make great goblets.”

As much as he wanted to believe she was joking, and as interesting as these ideas were? That was horrifying. He made a point of telling her this, somehow keeping a straight face even as she laughed at him and moved to check Clint’s head. Brock had some repairs to do on his stinger, so him and Sam would be out for a few hours yet - a day if they couldn’t isolate the problem easily. Bucky maneuvered around the crates in the hanger to get to his own stinger, strapping down his bag with some clean clothes and making sure his gear and tech were all secured. He also checked that the medkit was still there - Clint had a habit of looting his supplies in the field when he ran low, then forgetting to restock it for him.

Once Bucky was satisfied everything in the small cockpit was secured he slipped into the pilot seat, starting everything up to do a last systems check. He heard Steve’s footfalls coming up the ramp, mumbling a welcome to him as he read over his system log - an ugly set of green strings on a black screen. Sure, they _could_ upgrade to a more modern set of stingers, but that was more money than was worth when your current set still worked just fine. Well, it worked alright. Steve leaned against Bucky’s chair, grinning at the not-amused grunt he got for jostling the chair.

“Everything ready to go? What’d you do to Clint?”

“Looks like. Why does everyone assume _I_ did something to him? Not my fault he can’t hear me.”

“Buck, he’s deaf. And you’ve been through more training than all of them.”

“Y’callin’ me old, punk? He’s got those fancy implants. Deaf doesn’t really apply to him anymore.” Steve rolled his eyes and messed Bucky’s hair, doubling his efforts with his indignant squawk. “Seriously, Stevie! What’re you, six!?”

“Missing a few numbers there, old man.” Steve’s tone turned serious after that, cutting the humorous tone they had working for them. “The cells Peggy made will last us an extra week, but we should really head back after you guys are done this trip. Not take the chance. Home made fuel does a number on the drives and I didn’t get them buffed when we fixed up.”

“Too expensive? We’ve got enough food and gear for a three day trip. Couple’a nights out and we’ll be back.”

“Good. And yeah, the guy was willing to work on anything I gave him? But he’s still a damn pricey bastard.” He paused to worry at his lip now, Bucky shooting a glance over his shoulder at his face before turning to give him his full attention. “There’s.. We saw something on the radars - another large ship passing by on the edge of our scanning range. Just as big as ours, maybe bigger, but didn’t head this way.”

Bucky read between the lines. A vessel that size would be a worry, considering how much they could fit on their own. Steve had probably sat staring at the radar for a good couple of hours for any sign that they might head this way. If he hadn’t sounded an alarm then he wasn’t worried they would outright attack, but he wanted them to keep their eyes out.

“We’ll be careful, Stevie. Check in when we can, too. Anythin’ happens an’ we’ll turn the trackers on.”

In all honesty, Steve would very much so prefer that they didn’t head out again. He would rather take the loss of revenue than have his friends wander back out into the field with a potential enemy ship so close by. Nevermind the fact that he was their Captain and therefore responsible for their lives. He couldn’t imagine dealing with losing them normally, nevermind for something as stupid as chancing a scavenging trip with hostiles.

There was no way the others would go along with that plan, though. They needed the money, and the ship needed more repairs.

Bucky smiled and winked at Steve before turning to clip on his mask and goggles, starting to strap in while Steve made his way back to the hanger to wait with Natasha. He waited long enough to hear Clint fire up his engines before engaging his own, taking off toward the Iron Fields once more.

The first thing Bucky noticed was that the currents were more active today - small debris were slowly moving across his peripheral while his tracker was reporting that the asteroid he was working on the other day had shifted almost a full click out of its original position. His next thought was that their travel time, which was already going to be doubled because of how deep they intended to go, would be longer due to needing to avoid a bunch of new obstacles. He checked his screen again while they were flying, trying to pick up any signs of a storm.

The field was definitely acting like one was coming.. But all data and visuals suggested one had already happened. Which would explain why everything was moving faster, but not why they didn’t see more of a - well, a mess.

After a few more hours of radio silence he finally called out to Clint, reporting his coordinates and drifting while he waited for him to show up. “See anything yet?”

_”Anything? As in, any enemies? Any ladies? Any shiney things?”_

“Smartass. I know Widow filled you in. We should be far enough in t’look for a perch, too.”

 _”Yeah, I don’t want to go much farther. Shit’s moving around pretty fast, for a bunch of dead rock. Looks like the only living things around are you, me, and the imaginary woman we both wish we could see.”_ Bucky snorted, flying close to Clint as they looked for a place big enough for both of them to set up. Steve will want them to stick together, especially this far in.

“Why would I want those? There’s plenty t’look at back at the ship, even more if I wait to dock. Then we don’t run the risk of getting stabbed.” Not that he and Natasha hadn’t fooled around here and there. Bucky didn’t really have a preference, but in this case men - Clint especially - were easier to please than women. And he didn’t have to worry about getting him pregnant, or about what some random alien at a dock might be like - or what they might be carrying.

Alien chicks, while some were hot, were weird.

_”I haven’t seen you take off with a docker in forever, you liar.”_

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right dame. Figure I’ll let you chanse it, _then_ see if I find something pretty.” Bucky smirked at the stream of vulgar commentary he got from Clint in return, only interrupting him a few minutes later when he found something interesting. “Let’s camp there. More than big enough for both of us, looks like a few beams stickin’ out. Must’a collided with some ship debris or somethin’.”

_”Roger. We teaming up?”_

“Yeah. I’ll land by the beam, then we can start digging. Out.”

It would be safer to dig in the same area, even if it meant they probably wouldn’t find too much mineral variability.

As soon as Bucky landed he checked the scanners again, watching for any signs of unexpected movement within the range of his sensors. They wouldn’t pick up signals from the newer models, but he figured that no one would be dumb enough - or rich enough - to take one of those out into the middle of a magnetically charged sea of metal and rock. Once he was satisfied that nothing was coming to blow them up he got up, dragging out his anchors to bolt the stinger’s legs to the surface. Next was setting up his work station, glancing over to see Clint doing the same on the other side of the beam structure.

It didn’t look like much - a small series of twisted, broken metal beams jutting out of the ground. Some were twisted and melted together, others were bent over themselves, and yet others were pointing in awkward directions. From how hard it must have hit the asteroid surface he doubted anything it was attached to survived the impact compression. It was probably a wall of metal under the surface. Not really worth the time to dig it out.

That did mean, however, that there was a good chance there would be other goodies buried in the many small ‘craters’ on the surface.

By the end of their ‘day’ - nearly ten hours later - the pair of them finally turned in, absolutely exhausted. They had expanded and deepened a couple of small craters, finding a couple of odd treasures and a bunch of scrap metal. As if the soft metal deposits - small collections of gold and copper - buried in the stone weren’t enough of a payoff. Not to mention the lead they got from melting down the scrap.

Bucky collapsed his mask so he could eat, taking a chunk out of his bar and stepping out of his gear. He wanted a fresh set of clothes to sleep in. With a slight hum he grabbed a wipe from his bag, cleaning off the sweat from his body as well.

“Hawk - these bars taste like ass.”

_”Hmm, the good kind?”_

“Seriously? Only you’d care about that. And no, by the way - they just taste-”

 _”Like licking the underside of a boot and how an Akrennian smells. Right? Listen - Cap’ll cook up something epic when we get back! So just.. Picture whatever you think he’ll make when you bite the deathbar. And maybe plug your nose. Or think of my body wash~!”_ Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes fondly and slipping on some clean clothes.

“Asshole. Go to sleep, birdbrain. Dream’a your own body wash. Out.”

Clint’s chortling response went ignored as Bucky brushed through his hair, pulling it back into a tie so sleep wouldn’t mess it up. As soon as the bar was finished he extended his mask on again - he always felt safer with it on when he had to sleep in the cockpit. Bucky stretched out on his cot with a long sigh and reached for one of the slender boxes beside him. While normally you weren’t supposed to handle materials or debris outside of your gear, there were few things that could make enhanced humans sick.

He traced his flesh fingers over the top of the dented case, using his metal thumb to slowly work open the broken latch to a point where he could pop the lid open. Clint and him had found three of them today, though Bucky was only lucky enough to dig up one for himself. Treasure boxes - they came in all shapes and sizes, and always held something precious in them. Though, Buck supposed not everyone would consider some of the things they found as treasures - he was pretty sure Steve would defend the awesomeness of the ancient Brooklyn Dodgers cap they found to the death.

Bucky’s personal favorite was an old set of CDs that had somehow stayed in good enough condition for him to get the music off of.

The latch finally gave way, prompting a grin from the assassin. It was short lived, though. His smile slowly fell as he reached inside, lifting a silver chain with two bands on them - matching rings. This had been someone’s wedding ring set.. Bucky rolled one of the rings between his fingers, examining the details on the outside, the inscription of eternal love on the inner surface, the subtle engraved designs along the outer edge..

He wondered what kind of people owned them. What planet they were from. What their lives were like before they lost one another, and who kept the rings so close after their death. Not many cultures used rings like this for marriage, and most of their worlds had been destroyed.

Hell, from the letters of the inscription alone there was a damn good possibility that the owners were human.

After a few more minutes he placed the rings back in the box and set it to the side, rolling onto his side to get some much needed shut-eye. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for his breathing to even out, either.

**~ * ~**

If there was one thing you learned when you spend time at war or being hunted, it is how to snap into a state of awareness at the first sign of danger. Somehow, not even being in the middle of a wasteland of floating rock in what essentially is a never ending vacuum? Not even that was enough to be rid of that strange ability.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open the instant he started to feel that something was off, the hairs on his arm standing on end from the feeling. Quickly pushing aside the blankets he reached for his gear, working as fast as he possibly could to strap himself in while calling to Clint on their comms. Something was wrong - Clint woke just as easily as any of them did when there was a threat.

With a low curse he grabbed a couple of his knives and his pistol, slipping his goggles on and expanding them into the rest of his helmet. After scanning over what he could from the front of his ship he lowered the ramp, nearly jumping out of his skin when his comm crackled.

_”..nter?.. Re.. ing ou… m re.. The sca... rm! ETA ma… ts.. Wi…”_

Bucky clenched his hand, feeling the frustration build. Whatever was out there was messing with the relays in a bad way. The ramp gave a soft hiss as it opened, the soldier hoping his blankets wouldn’t float away while he was touring around the surface.

Their position had changed again in the Iron Fields - he couldn’t see Alcyone anymore, and the dwarves had shifted as well. That wasn’t good.. Bucky spared one last glance before slowly moving toward the beam structure, glancing around every few seconds. There weren’t many places to hide on this oversized rock. Bucky saw movement by Clint’s ship, glancing over to see the ramp lower and the man move out as well. He still couldn’t make out what he was repeating on the comms, but with a couple of waves he managed to signal Clint toward the beams.

He’d rather be safe than sorry.

The soldier slowly crept closer, thankful that sound wasn’t carried in the vacuum of space, slowly peeking around every set of beams as they moved. Finally it was just the structure left, Bucky nodding to Clint before both of them gripped their guns. As one they moved through the broken ‘rooms’, clearing each section until finally jumping out either side, turning to face-

Nothing.

Bucky blinked and frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. How could there be nothing there? He was sure that..

Clint gently gripped his shoulder, prompting him to turn to the blonde. He shook his head and knocked on the side of his helmet, signaling that his end was still down. Thankfully that wasn’t hard to convey, so the blonde nodded and raised his hands.

_No one here?_

_At least we checked. Relay?_

_Interference-_

The subtle change in Clint’s posture was more than enough warning for Bucky. He twisted around and reached with his metal arm, grabbing someone’s forearm and twisting them around. With one quick thrust he had the person pressed against the wall of the structure, narrowing his eyes in his helmet as he watched them squirm.

They had no weapons.

There weren’t even any holstered on their sides. There was just.. None.

Bucky gave the intruder another once-over before letting him go, the smaller figure quickly backing out of arm’s reach. _Alright.. Not hostile.._ He tilted his head at them, watching them lift their hands to knock against their helmet too.

Apparently it wasn’t just their comms.

Clint brushed around him and waved to catch the other’s attention, both men happy to see they knew some kind of sign language. Albeit, it was a rather crude version. ASL wasn’t transferred very well between different species.

They didn’t get a chance to ask more than the other person’s name.

Bucky felt the asteroid shake under their feet, the man’s eyes widening as he turned to see several meteors collide with the surface no more than forty feet away. And behind it..? A massive cloud of yellows and reds, pushing the smaller debris towards them at alarming speeds. The three glanced toward one another before turning, each running back toward their stingers. Ion storms were dangerous enough on a full ship, but the small fliers they had now? They wouldn’t stand a chance if they didn’t find some cover.

The soldier ran with Clint, both men barely pausing when another meteor struck the asteroid’s surface, shaking the rock below their feet and nearly dislodging the magnets on their boots. Bucky felt some of the castaway hit his leg and his back, the man growling and pushing forward. Clint broke away to run for his own stinger now, Bucky making it another thirty feet before looking back.

Just in time to see Clint get knocked away from his ship.

Several large projectiles sped toward them, exploding upon impact between the two friends. The worst however, was the one that hit Clint’s stinger. The force of the explosion was enough to knock Clint off his feet and push him backward, another few rocks slamming into the ground around him and causing small shards to spray around him. Bucky couldn’t stop himself from turning back. No way in hell was he going to leave him there to die.

The storm was already picking up, the comms going completely dead now as the interference fried the relay on his stinger. Bucky ignored the feel of shards piercing the weaker points in his armor, dodging the impact zones as best he could to get to his friend.

As soon as Clint was in his arms he turned back, half dragging and half carrying him to his stinger.

Another hundred feet later, and several more explosive impacts, and Bucky was gently laying Clint on his bedroll. He jumped over the side of his pilot seat as the airlock clicked into place, the cabin quickly pressurizing - allowing Bucky to hear his friend’s pained gasping. Something was wrong, but he didn’t have time to stop and look him over.

“Hang on, birdbrain..”

He fired up the engine and pushed the stinger to take off, wincing as he felt one of the legs snap free of the flier. Another was almost lost to more flying debris, the legs folding into the stinger as it turned about face, the soldier pushing it to fly in the opposite direction of the storm. You couldn’t outrun these things. All you could do was go for cover and hope your hull could withstand the force.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the intruder’s ship blast to another direction entirely, hoping for a moment that they got out safe. There were very few reasons for a ship that size to be out this far into the Iron Fields, and attacking a scavenging crew wasn’t one of them. Not even Hunters braved the Fields. Bucky quickly pushed the thoughts from his head as he pushed the stinger to move recklessly fast around the shifting debris, spinning around meteors and having to change directions on the drop of a dime to avoid other, larger objects. Even though they were making good time, Bucky knew that the storm would still soon overtake them. He had to find somewhere to dock. Now.

It wasn’t long until he found a place for them to hide, the broken remains of what used to be a large ship coming into view.

Without pausing to overthink it, Bucky turned toward the wreckage, thanking any eternal being that was listening when he saw it was a piece of a hanger. After glancing around to try to find a decent place to land, Bucky made another probably stupid decision. Within another few seconds the back of the stinger was pushing itself into a bay door, the soldier trying to jam it into what was probably the most structurally sound corner of the remains. In his defence it probably was. The corner with the bay door was well within what was left of the hull, and the hangar doors that separated it from what remained of the ship were reinforced by several support beams.

Pushing the comparatively flimsy door out of the way for the best coverage point was well worth the dents to his own hull.

The second the stinger was in place Bucky powered it down, slipping out of his seat to run back to Clint. They would have to rely on their oxygen masks and the cabin pressure to keep them alive until the storm passed, or risk frying what was left of his ship’s functions. If he still believed in any kind of god, James Barnes might have prayed. A collision with the wreckage shook them so bad he nearly lost his footing, the man cursing as he reached up to grab his medkit, his eyes widening when he looked at his friend.

The blanket he had been resting on was soaked with red around his form.

“Shit, Clint-”

Bucky yelped and fell on top of him as the storm sent several larger chunks into the wreckage, Clint’s arms weakly wrapping around the older man’s body to hold him steady. Both of them knew what was coming. All they could do for now.. Was wait. Bucky glanced up to look out the blast shield, feeling his blood run cold at the sight.

The entire hangar was filled with the red and yellow glows of the ion storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry this took so long to get up! I got buried in schoolwork! These next few weeks are going to be pretty packed for me too, but I'm still going to keep writing! I have the next few chapters mapped out, so I'm hoping that they will be pretty easy to get started. I have a bunch of stuff planned, too!
> 
> Thank you for the comments and the kudos! I'm glad so many people are enjoying this! I'm having a ton of fun writing it!
> 
> Though admittedly it is getting a little hard waiting to write certain parts ;)
> 
> Still plan on making this a reaaaaally long story, so expect a ton more chapters in the future!


	6. Wake of an Angel

Sitting through the storm while one of your best friends slowly bled out beside you was one of the hardest things anyone could ever have to do. He remembered being through similar experiences back on Earth, from what seemed like another lifetime ago. Trapped in an abandoned building while your teammate bled out, or in a ditch, or under some lower city bridge. Watching the rain pelt away at the world around you, the water finding its way to where you sit and slowly pushing away the blood. Like you were sitting beside a brook fed from the rivers of hell.

Being stuck in the middle of what was essentially a projectile-tossing, hull-destroying, tech-frying magnetic storm? That it itself was more terrifying than most things Bucky had ever been through in his life. Chips of the wreckage had been broken apart by the meteors, and at one point a beam had collided with their blast shield, denting the metal braces around it. After a few careful checks - which gave Bucky a good chance to grab some more clean rags - he was satisfied that the glass would hold. For now, at least.

Thank god these old fliers were more sturdy than most of the newer ones.

He didn’t know how much time had passed until the storm had stopped, but he knew it was enough time for Clint to lose more than enough blood to be life threatening. The first hour he had kept pressure on the wounds, ignoring his own bleeding in favor for hoping that the serum would take care of the blood loss. By the end of what would be the third hour he would have taken his knives and cut away parts of Clint’s uniform to get at his wounds, cleaning them out as best he could.

When it was finally safe to turn the full life support systems on again, he would find out that a full nine hours had passed.

Bucky winced as he reached above his head for his ration bag - his arm had been damaged during their escape, he could feel something pressing in on the synthetic nerves. If he wasn’t so damn worried about Clint he’d contemplate strapping it to his chest so he didn’t have to feel the shifting pressure. Whatever it was that was stuck in there was also jamming the pistons and cogs, no doubt threatening to tangle more wires every time he moved.

Damn, Astor was going to kill him. Steve too, probably.

After a quick check to the climate panel Bucky collapsed the skull of his helmet, tossing the goggles to his bag and digging around for some of the water he had stashed in the bag. He could hear Clint’s ragged breathing over his shuffling, which was definitely worrying him if he could hear it through his helmet.

“Hey, meathead! C’mon, birdbrain.. Hey.. Y’hear me in there?”

Bucky’s fingers worked at his helmet as he spoke, carefully removing Clint’s skull and muzzle portions and clicking his fingers in front of his face to try to catch his attention. His friend was pale, and when he managed to open his eyes they were more unfocused than Bucky could remember them ever being when he was drunk.

“There y’go.. Follow my fingers, alright? That’s it. Don’t talk - you gotta’ save your strength.. Lost a lotta’ blood.. Here, gunna’ give you some water. Have some supplement tabs, too. Tease me about them later, I doubt you can get solids inta’ya.”

Thankfully Clint didn’t try fighting it, not that he probably had the energy to do so anyway. He doubted he’d have the energy to do so. Bucky knew the blonde would appreciate being told what was happening while he did it, though. Which was exactly why he explained that he needed to cut him out of his armor next. He couldn’t risk actually taking the tight fitting suit off properly when it could reopen his wounds.

As soon as Clint was free of his uniform Bucky was able to see the full extent of the damage. The shards of stone had penetrated several pieces of his armor, embedding themselves into his skin in the same way he could feel the shards in his own. The big difference being that Clint didn’t have that damn serum in him to help him heal. What was even more worrying though..? Was the slight tint of color he could see around some of the puffy entry points.

That was beyond not good. Bucky didn’t have any of the shit a human needed to fight an infection.

Carefully removing some tweezers from his kit, as well as some alcohol wipes, Bucky began carefully working on removing each of the small stone shards from Clint’s back, doing his best to keep his friend awake throughout the process. He couldn’t risk him falling asleep, even if it would have been kinder. Clint had to stay awake for now until he could finish patching him up.

 _Thirty six.. Thirty seven.. Thirty eight.._ Shit, he had a lot of shards in his back.

Clint was able to sit quietly through the extraction, but when it came to disinfecting them? He couldn’t stop himself from cursing and gripping weakly at the blankets below him. By time he was finally done cleaning them the poor guy had nearly passed out, numbly laying still while he placed a jell on some gauze pads. Bucky considered it a damn miracle that he was able to sit up long enough for him to move the red blankets away from under him.

Thank god he had a spare.

Bucky grabbed his pillows and arranged them to make a kind of short, makeshift mattress for Clint, stretching a couple of his clean shirts over them to keep them in place and helping his friend lay down on his stomach. He was able to get him to drink a bit more and swallow a couple more tabs, but by time he was stretched out he was already dead asleep. All that was left after that was to drape the emergency blanket over him to help keep him a little warmer. The heater would at least kick in fairly soon.

After checking how many of the blankets were soaked through - thankfully only two of the four, which meant he’d be able to at least use one himself - he moved around the small cabin to check on all his supplies. As much as he wanted to get moving, he couldn’t risk traveling so close after a storm like that. There was always the risk that an ion storm had pockets of ‘dead space’, many young travelers falling prey to the temptation to leave the safety of their hideaway and getting caught out in the open. Not to mention that Clint was in no shape for them to be flying around.

Enough water for three days, a bit more if he stretched it out carefully between them. Clint would need more though, so he’d just go without as much as possible. He could live off of the tablets for a while, too, so food wouldn’t be an issue. Clint could have the shitty meal bars once he could stomach something, and use some of his supply of tabs while he didn’t. The plus side of the tabs were that he could hoard them and they wouldn’t take up much space, so he had enough ‘food’ in a small bottle to last him at least a week.

Next up was checking on the stinger.

Dents in the hull, but nothing that looked like it would breach too easily. No cracks in the glass, and he couldn’t see any loose bolts.. He had a decent amount of fuel so he’d be able to keep life support running in decent intervals, but he’d need to keep it off more often than not if they wanted to have enough fuel to try to get back to _The Avenger_. Looking at the life support made him even more worried, though. His comm was still crackling when it turned on, and his screens showed that his relay was more than 90% damaged.

One of his thrusters was showing signs of potential failure, but it seemed like it could still function properly. At least he hoped it would. He didn’t know how to fix thrusters.. There was a chance portions of his life support were damaged too, but he wouldn’t be able to repair them without shutting all of them off and going outside. Too dangerous..

Bucky worked for a while on his relays, fiddling with the wiring until he was able to send out an SOS on loop. It was in morse, but it would at least help if anyone was nearby.

When he was finally done fiddling with the systems checks and whatever wiring he could get his hands on, the familiar red tinges were starting to push back into the hangar. Bucky sighed and powered down again, going back to Clint with some water and a few more tabs to eat. Then they’d need to put the masks back on while they waited out the second wave.

Clint wasn’t able to sit up. He could barely move his arms without feeling a burn stretching from his back through his shoulders, causing his body to tense and shake should he move too far. That was alright, though. Bucky knew how to get water into him without needing to make Clint move. Besides, he had to put all that kissing practice to good use, right?

When all was said and done, and the wounds were cleaned and redressed, Bucky fastened both of their masks and stretched out beside his friend. With the climate control off he’d need to share his body heat with Clint, else they both freeze. At least the stinger had good insulation, so they didn’t have to worry about leaking heat too fast.. They could hold onto a safe temperature for nearly fifteen hours - a feature installed to save fuel during long trips out.

Bucky carefully maneuvered his body so he could press against Clint without agitating his wounds and to stay off his left. Slowly he brushed his flesh fingers through the sandy blonde locks, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

At least he was too tired to be awake for the pain..

~ * ~

Ten hours. The second wave of that damn storm lasted nearly ten hours. Bucky had woken up a few times to check, and to change Clint’s dressings, but his friend was starting to look worse by the end of it. He carefully counted out the minutes when the storm finally showed signs of passing, waiting a full half hour longer when the last of the ‘cloud’ passed.

The second the ship was powered up he turned the heat on, his brow furrowed as he ran back to Clint. The sniper was shivering and his skin was pale, cold and clammy to the touch. He knew what was happening - Clint would develop a fever soon at this rate. With the lights on Bucky could finally see the full extent of the damage, too - the small infections he had before had spread. Once again, Bucky found himself begging whatever deity existed for help - if this devolved into some kind of blood poisoning..? He didn’t even have tylenol - that crap never worked on him - so there was no chance he had anything strong enough to actually help Clint, but weak enough to not kill him.

Being serum enhanced sucked when you needed medicine.

After Clint had drank, swallowed some tabs, and had his dressings change again, Bucky carefully pulled him against his chest. He had to keep him warm.. The normally light hair was sticking to his scalp. When his eyes opened they were clouded and unfocused.. His breath was rasping and uneven…

_C’mon, buddy.. Fight it…_

~ * ~

Two days.. They’ve been stuck there for two days. Bucky had tried to fire up the ship properly, to dislodge them, but the storm had damaged the ship more than his sensors had picked up. He could use the legs to jiggle them free if they absolutely had to, but with the broken thruster they wouldn’t get far.

The only thing they could do now was wait and hope that someone would pick up on the SOS.

Clint was only getting worse…

~ * ~

Bucky woke to the sound of wailing on the speakers. Wailing wasn’t the right word.. It was more like.. An echo? A call? It didn’t make sense to him, the closest thing he had heard to that before was some kind of whale back on Earth. And even then, that was a dumb recording on a holovid that Steve had made him listen to.

His fingers gently carded through Clint’s hair, the soldier hiding a wince as he looked up toward the blast shield.

Unfamiliar stars outside the walls of the wreckage. Beams of light reflecting off distant objects and bits of metal. Millions of bright blue and gold pricks dotting the distance from the billions and billions of stars that granted this sector of the galaxy their light. A calm current, barely enough to tilt the smallest of debris. The storm had moved on, the sea before them nothing but calm. Back to being the tranquil dance that could lull any traveler to sleep while watching it.

It was strangely beautiful, no matter how close or far you were to it.

Bucky felt his chest tighten when he finally spotted the source of the noise, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he carefully woke Clint. It was time for him to drink and eat more, anyway.

There in the distance, dancing between debris and chasing one another in some playful, graceful game only known to them, were six Wake Angels. Beautiful ray-like creatures as large as a stinger with pale blue skin, almost as if the blue giants had birthed them. They lived free in deep space and were shrouded in mystery, no one knowing where they came from, what they ate, or even how they interacted with other creatures. As far as anyone had been able to tell they were a peaceful being. They never stayed in one place too long, never attacking, forever dancing across the cosmos with their soft, wailing song catching on the comms of any close enough to hear them. Many considered them to be a sign of good luck.

Almost like whales back on..

“Hey.. Look.. See that..? A good sign, Clint.. We’ll pull through this..”

_Somehow.._

~ * ~

Four days… They had been trapped like this for four days.

Bucky knew they were in trouble. Clint had needed more water than he had calculated, and even with him only taking a couple of mouthfuls every couple of days their reserves were nearly gone. His fever wasn’t going down, and he had developed some kind of a rattling cough. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long now before he.. The Soldier shook his head, trying not to think about what felt inevitable at this point.

But really, that wasn’t even the worst of it all.

The stinger was running low on fuel.

He knew he was pushing their luck by leaving it on so long, reducing as many of the system functions as he could in order to help keep Clint comfortable and to keep the beacon broadcasting. It wasn’t like either of them would last much longer if they weren’t able to get water, anyway.

It was more of a last-ditch-effort to get in contact with anyone that might be able to help them.

~ * ~

The morning of the fifth day, they were nearly out of time.  
Bucky smiled warmly at Clint as he helped him to drink, gently lulling the sick man back to sleep as he tried to be strong for him. He couldn’t risk freaking him out. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t! His arm caught on Clint’s shoulder when he moved, causing the man to gasp and nearly fall over from the pain. It seemed like every time Bucky used it, something inside clogged and tore at something else, creating what he knew was starting to sound like a rusted engine or an old, dying clock.

It was getting worse - alot worse - and if he didn’t need _something_ to brace his friend with when he moved, he would probably have tried to tear the damn thing off himself. Not that either of them would have to worry about any of this for long.

They were out of water.

~ * ~

Bucky woke with a start, feeling the stinger shake around him as something scratched at their hull. He lifted his arm to try to plug at least one of his ears, the sound piercing their senses in a cruel assault that was the result of being trapped in near silence for days.

The computers weren’t helping either, the computers letting out an alarming number of - well, alarms. Clint was able to open his eyes but he couldn’t move, instead watching as Bucky stumbled to run for the front of the stinger. He tried to force his limbs to life when his friend was knocked by the stinger’s shaking, Bucky’s scream adding to the symphony of noise as his metal arm slammed against the console. But still, he couldn’t move.

In a particular nasty set of shakes, whatever was grabbing at them managed to pull the stinger free, sending Bucky rolling into the blast shield with absolutely no control. Clint wasn’t safe from the shift either, unable to stop his body from sliding across the floor toward the front of the small ship. He managed to lift his arms enough to wrap them around the underside of the chair, trying to focus through the haze on his mind as he looked for his friend.

“B.. Bu.. Ck..?”

Their attacker shifted the stinger again, a loud _thud_ a few feet away drawing the ill man’s eyes. Bucky was out cold, a red trickle on the pale skin of his forehead.

The last thing Clint noticed was a pair of bright lights shining in through the blast shield, the stinger being pulled toward the light by the two large arms on either side.

Then it all faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves cliffhangers, right? No? That's just me? Whoops..
> 
> Again, if you want me to look into something to add a bit of extra science-y things in somewhere, leave a comment and I will see if I can work it in! I don't have everything fleshed out yet, and I'm perfectly happy to expand some stuff! I have a bunch of pseudo-science-y-things planned for Tones, and for Clint, Buck and Steve, but that's about it so far for concrete plans.
> 
> Thanks again, everyone!!


	7. I'm So Sorry

_CLANG_

“Life isn’t always what you think it’d be. Turn your head for one second, and let the tables turn~“

_CLANG, CLANG_

“And I know, I know that I did you wrong,“

_CLANG_

“But will you trust me - when I say, that I’ll make it up to you some how. Somehow!“

Music rang through the messy workshop, nearly drowning out the sound of the hammer beating red-hot metal into place. But not quite loud enough to drown out the enthusiastic singing of the hammers wielder.

This workshop was his home, his livelihood, his sanctuary. It was a mix of treasures and junk, of materials and contraptions. Once in awhile the runners would come back with ‘treasures’ for him to play with or take apart, other times he would request something specific and add it to his hoard of supplies, but no matter where it came from? It touched base in his workshop at one point or another.

Mostly it was dedicated to storing supplies so he could repair anything that needed to be fixed, or scrap and salvage what he could from what was brought to him. That was how he had managed to make a good collection of old Earth music - he was one of the few that was able to copy and transfer the old formats into his archives. A few items from his small home above the workshop made it downstairs here and there, such as a few blankets and a pillow, or mugs of liquid he brings down and forgets about.

At least it’s - almost - never anything that smells..

“So you gotta fire up - you gotta’ let go! You’ll never be LOVED ‘till you’ve made your own~“

After the hammer was dropped, the moulded metal was lifted with a large pair of tongs. It hovered over the top of a water drum for a second before being plunged deep inside, spewing a column of hissing steam.

The brunette spun on his heel, holding the now empty tongs up like a standing mic with his lips split in a wild grin.

“You gotta face up - you gotta’ get yours! You never know the top ‘til you get too low~”

He didn’t notice someone behind him, watching him dance around his work and sing his heart out. He wouldn’t have noticed him, either. So the older man grabbed a hammer and a small metal bin, waiting for the music to die down enough for him to be heard.

“A son of a-”

_CRASH_

“KID!”

“HOLYSHITBALLS! OLD MAN!”

He would never admit to his voice breaking halfway through that decidedly - not - manly scream. Or to tripping over a long-forgotten screwdriver and falling flat on his face. Yinsen laughed at the younger male, calling out for JARVIS to turn the music down before kneeling down beside the younger male.

“Now, now, you really should watch that language, young man. It is not becoming of a young gentleman.”

“Says the black-hearted-wisecracker that scared the hell out of me! I _HAVE_ a heart condition, you know!!”

“And I have full confidence that you would be perfectly fine, should you experience a large-scale event pertaining to your over-excitement or fright.”

He narrowed his eyes at him, slowly accepting the older man’s help to stand up.

“And considering I have examined you extensively over the years, Anthony, I can say with confidence that you would be perfectly fine no matter how I were to scare you.”

“You know, you’ve got everyone fooled. You’re SO a secret human-alien hybrid!”

“All the better to tinker with your insides, Anthony~”

“I-what-you hear this, JARVIS?! He’s picking on me!”

_”I do sympathise, sir. May I suggest a three minute break for self-pity? Or shall I schedule a full hour of ‘woe-is-me’ time later tonight?”_

Tony’s eyes narrowed at one of the sensor bars in the wall, crossing his arms in his oversized sweater.

“Alright, Skynet. Snark all you want - see if I debug your scanners later.”

Yinsen laughed and shook his head, taking Tony by the shoulder and leading him up the stairs to his small home. The colony didn’t have too much space, nor did it have many items to share between all the residents, but still no one went without the basics.

Tony was given a large workshop space - mostly because he needed it in order to conduct the repairs that most people needed him to do - with a large hangar-like door on a lower level of the colony, and a staircase with a hatch to the main floor. On the upper level of the colony, where many of the homes were stacked around one another, he had a small two floor apartment. He had a small bathroom on the main floor with a small kitchen and sitting area, a makeshift couch built into the side of the wall by the small table and a few stools. Upstairs was the bedroom - a small room with one window, a small bed, and a shelf for his clothes. Throughout the house were scattered a few things that reminded him of home, as well as some of his own personal tech, and the doorways and windows were ‘closed off’ from the rest of the outside world with a faded red and gold cloth.

Tony absolutely loved it.

Sure, it was cold and almost all his clothes had holes in them. Sure, there wasn’t a whole lot of luxuries. They were alive, and this shithole of a station? It was their home - built with their sweat and blood.

The teen’s nose twitched when he was pushed to the small table, seeing a plate of eggs and some bread with a mug of what was either milk or tea. Maybe both. Honestly he never bothered asking when Yinsen was involved - his answers were usually filled with things he didn’t want to know. Or consume.

“Did you seriously break into my place just to make me food and scare the shit out of me?”

_“On the contrary, sir - I welcomed him inside as you had yet to eat today.”_

Yinsen laughed as Tony murmured something about a conspiracy, messing up his hair on his way to the kitchen to wash up. “I wasn’t about to let you waste away - you are still growing-”

“Seriously?! A crack about my height too?!”

“-and you need all the nutrients you can get. You’re so scrawny anyway-”

“Lithe! I’ve got muscle!”

“-and I thought you’d want to have a decent meal before you get to work on the new arrivals.”

That caught his attention.

Tony perked up, chewing the tough bread and looking over to watch Yinsen work. “So, uhh.. New.. Arrivals?” _That was smooth. Not._

“Yes. Plenty of soft metals, a few kits of parts and contraptions, and best of all? Some survivors from a wreckage!” He smiled as Tony choked on his food. “Really, child - chew and _THEN_ swallow. Before you say it, these two men actually do require your services. I have Bruce and Cho working on patching them up, but they are Enhanced. The poor lads were caught in an ion storm, so you’ll have to fix up whatever bits you can. And I’d suggest you start with the one with the metal arm-”

“Metal ARM!?”

“-when he wakes he ends up screaming before passing out. I fear that it is attached to his nerve system, and something is pinching terribly. Young man, I swear - close your mouth and finish your breakfast! We have a long day ahead! We don’t get visitors very often, so hurry it up and get a good wash in! Don’t want you covered in grease and smelling of your workshop when I take you.”

Tony quickly finished his meal after that, rushing to his workshop to get at the small shower he had there. Of course this meant that, in his excitement, he forgot to bring a towel or some clean clothes. Thankfully Yinsen was looking out for him again, tossing down a towel with fresh garments bundled inside. Once he was dressed he grabbed his earpiece and joined Yinsen, listening to his talk about both men and where they were found.

The blonde had fried implants in his ears, which made him shudder to think of, and was suffering from a whole host of infections. Miss Cho was doing what she could to help him fight the sickness, but was worried about how he would recover. Bruce on the other hand was fairly confident he would wake up in a few days with their combination of medicine and bed rest.

The brunette, on the other hand? He was a different story. They could tell he was more than cybernetically enhanced, both due to the fact that his injuries had healed over and his body wasn’t responding to any anesthetic they gave him. It had taken the three of them a good portion of the morning to keep him calm and still enough to remove each of the stone shards buried in his skin. Yinsen was sure they would be hearing him scream for days in their heads, the only relief they got was when the poor man passed out from the pain.

Tony couldn’t wait to get his hands on that arm.

It wouldn’t take long for him to get his wish either, as the small hospital was barely a twenty minute walk from his workshop. He hated hospitals, but as far as the sterilized-hell-holes went this one wasn’t too bad. Like the rest of the colony it was decorated and portioned off with cloth over doors and windows, and the walls were the same rusted-red and faded-blue-grey colors as the rest of the station, seeing as they were all made from the same metal scraps. The best part about it though, was the rooftop-garden that grew most of the herbs that Yinsen and Cho used for their more natural medicines and teas.

As they approached the patient rooms they could hear two people talking, Cho smiling at the both of them before walking past to get back to Clint’s room while the teenagers continued to talk.

Aside from Rhodie and Pepper, Bruce and Toni were as close to family as Tony figured he was ever likely to get.

Bruce was brilliant, a usually shy but caring seventeen-year-old with the mind of a fine-tuned engine. The only thing he could really think to complain about him was that he took after Cho too much - engineering was _way_ better than the squishy sciences, no matter what anyone told him. Though truth be told he respected him for it. Tony could force himself to learn about biology, because he saw the need and potential in it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Toni? She was on another level altogether. Toni Ho was Yinsen’s daughter, and she showed it every time she spoke. She was a damn near perfect mix of the squishy and hard sciences that had Tony and Bruce hanging onto her every word when she talked to them about her father’s lessons, and both of them envied how she would be following him in a few weeks to go to some kind of conference. They would both love the chance to find and talk to other great minds, to gain knowledge from other sources and bring back whatever they could. Unfortunately for them, Yinsen had flat out refused to take any of them until they had turned twenty.

Totally not fair, in his opinion. Responsibility was totally overrated. How dare he, right?

Once the three of them were sitting together they talked about their patients, filling Tony in on whatever they had discovered and any complications they might face while working on them. Toni would act as physical support for both of the younger males, but would only directly be involved with the blonde’s case - since his hearing aids were implanted and she had more experience than Bruce. Even then, they wouldn’t be doing any actual surgery work unless it was absolutely unavoidable and Cho would be working the knife.

Bruce would be Tony’s main aid on the brunette, and both would be there to help restrain the large man if needed. Tony wouldn’t be able to work on the blonde until his fever had gone down, but Cho was at least able to get a scan on his implants. Thank god nothing needed to be physically replaced, he hated surgery.

The large brunette was lying still when the three entered the room, Tony slipping his fingers to his earpiece to activate it. A small frame worked its way over his face, snug against his skin, and eventually expanded properly to form a clear lense over his left eye. “Hear me, buddy?”

_”Sir, the connection has been established. Shall I scan the arm?”_

“You make daddy so proud~ Keep an eye on his vitals for me too, Jay~”

“Anthony, you know it’s creepy when you talk to your computers like they are children, right?”

“Now, Toni - just because your dad won’t let you have kids-”

“I highly doubt she wants kids yet, Tony. Here - looks like this is a main hatch. The other panels should lift easy after this one’s out of the way.”

“You too, Brucie?! Come now, you know I’d share my robot babies with you! Oh - that popped up easier than I thought it would.”

“Whatever you say Tony. Too bad you’re like my little brother.”

“See, Jay? J-E-A-L-O-U-hooooooly crap what’d they do to this guy’s wiring?! Are you guys seeing this shitfest?! Ok, I know you don’t normally look inside machines very often, what with you being less mechanical and more squishy? But this is like if I took the insides of one of those old Earth toasters, welded it together with some holoscreen parts, encased it in stripped wires from a faulty control panel, and wrapped it around some old pistons!”

“You’re weird, kid.”

“This is a travesty! Complete and utter destruction of what WAS a work of beauty! Probably.”

Bruce and Toni shared an exasperated look before standing by to help him, Toni eventually filtering away to get them some food a few hours later and to check in with her father. Bruce left after a few minutes to report to Cho, not worried about the brunette freaking out since his body had relaxed after a few short moments.

Tony managed to disconnect the power source early on, rendering the entire thing essentially useless - not that it could get worse with how bad the wires were tangled. Many wires needed to be disconnected so they could be untangled, and many others flat out needed to be replaced. He was able to make a mold of some of the cogs and gears that he knew wouldn’t last, and thank god he had the material in the shop to make them.

Hoarding sometimes has its perks.

Unfortunately though, this also meant that he would need several days of work and study to get the arm functioning properly again. And that wasn’t even counting the external work he’d have to do to fix the panels and straighten everything out again.

He was so fixated on sorting through as much of the mess on the arm itself that he didn’t notice either of his friends had left. Nor did he notice the blue eyes watching him work.

~ * ~

_Pain… Why is it always pain..._

“ _Cross my heart and hope to die,_ ”

Bucky felt sick from his conscious being adrift, a strange, constant sense of floating without actually moving. One moment he was almost aware enough to open his eyes, only to keep them shut as he screamed his throat raw from the pain. Another moment he felt almost as if he could wake up back on Earth, decades in the past before he became the Soldier.

“ _Burn my lungs and close my eyes,_ ”

Sometimes he felt warm, a comfortable feeling when compared to the soft voice he heard singing and old song.

“ _I’ve lost control and I don’t want it back - I’ve gone numb, I’ve been hijacked~_ ”

But sometimes he felt cold. As if he were stuck in the damn snow, or the vacuum of space, or the cursed cryochamber..

“ _It’s such a fuckin’ drag~_ ”

At least the pain had stopped. Just before the voice had started the pain had stopped. There was one great jolt before his entire left side went numb, even the damn ever-present pain in his shoulder had all but vanished.

“ _So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do - cause you’re worse than nicotine~_ Oh shit, that doesn’t go there either.. What the hell’d they do to you..”

Bucky slowly opened his eyes, his body too worn out to offer even a twitch at the unfamiliar environment. Honestly he was just glad that he was laying on something soft and warm, rather than on his half frozen stinger. Normally he had a tendency to freak out when someone worked on his arm, and that only ever got worse when he didn’t know the person. And yet he felt nothing even remotely like anxiety as he watched this boy - he couldn’t be more than seventeen - dig his hands around in his arm, removing and replacing bits of wire while singing to a song that was older than both of them by far.

“ _It’s better to burn than to fade away. It’s better to leave than to be replaced~_ ”

Seriously - that song was made in the early two-thousands by some band named Fall Out Boy. No way should any kid born around Earth’s destruction actually know about bands like that! Sure, it was still popular - despite the near thousand year age - in his childhood, and copies of it existed still if you knew how to find them. But really - kids in the far corners of the Andromeda shouldn’t know what music _that old_ is!

Not that he really minded. He was more of a Panic! At the Disco fan himself.

“ _I’m losing to you, baby, I’m no match - I’m going numb, I’ve been hijacked~_ ”

He smirked slightly as he watched him, noting that the kid was completely distracted. He was thin but lean, wearing an old, oversized sweater with holes for his thumbs, and shaggy brown hair that was long overdue for a cut. Lost both in his work and in the melody that was clearly playing in his head - or in that fancy eye-to-earpiece of his. His head hurt a little too much to focus his hearing, but he could hear _something_ coming from it.

Bucky took a careful, slow breath so he wouldn’t think he hurt him before speaking - wincing from the scratching he felt in his abused throat.

“It’s such.. A fuckin’ drag..”

A smirk played across his lips as the kid jumped, cursing enough to make any sailor or pilot proud as he dropped his tools on the floor and kicked the legs of the bed. After he got over his initial shock he wrapped his hands around his knee, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes.

He would swear for the rest of his life that they were the most beautiful doe-eyes he had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapters cause I'm avoiding homework! Yay! :D
> 
> Annnnd enter, Tony! The current authority on derpiness and oldschool Earth music! Since I'm following the timeline of Titan AE, all the songs in our current time would be close to a thousand years in their past. I know he is super young right now, but nothing is going to happen between them while he is that young (any guesses to his age? I've dropped hints in earlier chapters~) Figured I'd state this now since that's probably a worry for some people.
> 
> Huzzah for more characters!! Trying to incorporate as many Marvel characters as I can, which means I am spending a decent amount of time surfing online to figure out who might work best in what part of this AU and holy crap there are a LOT of Marvel characters.
> 
> Songs sung this chapter:  
> Nicotine - Panic! At the Disco  
> I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons
> 
> Just a heads up, I have a midterm next week plus it's my brother's birthday, AND I'm going to be trying to switch jobs(god help me), so might or might not get another chapter outa' me in the next few days to make up for me not likely being around much for a bit. Or you'll get more chapters if I procrastinate again. Who knows at this rate! I sure as hell don't.
> 
> Thanks again for commenting and stuff! Have a great night everyone!


	8. Retro Age

Honey brown. The kid’s big doe-eyes were honey brown. Bucky didn’t think he’d like that color, not in any way he’d seen so far. But in eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes? He was pretty sure he’d spare many a dream to eyes like that in the future.

Cock-blocked by an uncomfortable age gap, though. Damn. There was no way this kid was legal.

After a moment of shocked staring, and you could see the exact moment when the kid’s brain caught up to the situation, the boy yelped again and jumped to his feet. Bucky blinked in a mix of confusion and amusement as he watched him run to the door, leaning out and calling for someone named Cho before running to the sink for some water. Then running back and somehow managing not to spill his cargo all over himself - or Bucky.

All that running the kid was doing was making him feel tired again.

“H-here, hang on - oh, guess you need to sit up to drink, don’t you? Uhh - hang on, hang on-” Bucky let out a small, raspy laugh as the kid rummaged and bolted around the room to collect a couple of pillows. He tried to hide a wince when the kid helped him sit up enough to stack them behind him, amazed at how weak he felt as he lifted his hand to help hold the cup to his mouth. He couldn’t believe how much a relief a small cup of water could be.

Once he was done catching his breath he gave him a small, crooked smile.

“Thanks, kid.. How.. D’ya know that tune..?” First a flash of rebellion through those beautiful brown eyes, then it gave way to joy. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the cloth door being pushed aside.

“Anthony, you called- oh! Hello! You’re awake! Dr. Cho is on her way, you and your friend have been through a lot. I am Toni, and that is Anthony. Do you know what your name is..?”

He frowned, looking at the blue-eyed girl for a moment before nodding. “Bucky.. Where..?”

Another woman appeared behind the girl - Toni - with a gentle hand on her shoulder, walking toward the bed with a kind smile. “You are safe. A colony - Wei Novus. One of our runners picked up on a distress call and sent a retrieval unit. You two are lucky you were found when you were. Your friend is lucky to be alive at all.” Bucky’s eyes went wide, the worry causing a quick shock of adrenaline for him.

“Clint-”

“Yes, he is fine now. Stable. We have his sickness under control, and his fever is already going down a bit. As for you? We removed all the stone flecks from your back and side. You’re physical injuries should be healed up by tomorrow morning, but the rest? You are severely dehydrated, and you need food and rest. Tony, how long until you can get his arm fixed up?”

Bucky saw the boy beside him grin, fiddling with the glass over his eye. “Two, three days tops! If all goes well, it’ll be better than new!”

“Good! And your friend - Clint, right? He is being well cared for, I promise. Now.. We will have to think of some living arrangements for you both while you recover, and we will do what we can for your ship as well. There should be..”

Bucky watched them talk, quite honestly tuning out after the kid - Anthony, Tony, whichever he actually went by - would be the one fixing his arm. Not even Astor knew enough about the arm to properly maintain it, nevermind to fully repair it! Who was this kid that he could proclaim to make it ‘better than new’?!

Cho seemed to notice he had clocked out, smiling softly at him and talking with the two younger ones while she checked on his body. And while the boy worked on wrapping the metal arm. Something about the panels needing to be fixed before it could be sealed up properly - meaning he would have to keep it wrapped up and strapped to his chest to keep the damn thing out of the way. At some point his eyes had slipped closed, the soldier dozing off for some time.

When he woke next there would be another new person standing beside him, talking with Dr. Cho about.. Him?

“..we should see if - ah! You are awake again! How do you feel?” Cho smiled and leaned forward to check his eyes, gently opening his lids to check his pupils. After he had answered all of his questions she squeezed his shoulder and helped him to sit up, retrieving a small bag with his things in them from the counter.

That was about the first moment he realized that he wasn’t wearing his clothes.

“Here. This is Hank - you can think of him as the mayor-”

“Pfft, mayor. That would mean any of you actually listen to me.”

“-he is going to show you around and get you settled in, if you feel up to walking.” Bucky nodded slowly, pushing himself to stand and test his balance before taking the bag. He couldn’t help but to feel a small amount of pride from the shocked look on their faces - they must not interact much with Enhanced.

Hank was quiet as they walked - not too fast, thankfully, though he suspected that the older man didn’t really care too much about going slow. He probably felt that Bucky needed the slower pace.

“So.. Mayor?”

“I lead this group of misfits, help them come up with solutions to problems when they can’t stop arguing. Occasionally teach some classes and babysit some kids. Nothing too wondrous, I assure you. Been awhile since I’ve played tour guide. Should be fun. If you are up to it I’ll take you to your ship - we didn’t take anything from it, and I assume you would be happier in your own clothes?”

Bucky smiled and nodded a bit, glancing down at the patchy shirt and pants he was wearing. At least they had left his boots by the bed, though he was missing his socks right about now…

“Not that I don’t appreciate the generosity.. But yeah, I miss my clothes.. Where are we..?” Damn his throat was scratchy.

“Wei Novus. A drifter colony on the far end of the Iron Fields. You wouldn’t have heard of us - we make it our business to stay as far out of the way, and as far from the light as we can.”

“Isn’t that a little risky?”

“Yes, but then again being human is risky in itself. Listen, I will be honest with you - people here? They aren’t going to trust you. Either of you. Doesn’t matter that you were both practically dead when we found you, or that you are both clearly Enhanced.” Bucky knew what that meant. It meant that people came here to hide. Which made sense in more ways than one - going as far as you could to get away from the ‘light’ was usually a pretty safe bet.

“Wouldn’ expect anythin’ less..”

Hank watched him for a moment, his eyes seeming to take him apart with each sweep. Then he nodded, and turned away to walk ahead.

The colony itself was like most drifter colonies he had seen, though it was both quite a bit larger and had plenty more greenery. They had clearly put a lot of work into being as self-sustaining as they possibly could. How they did it? That was probably an explanation that he wasn’t honestly aware enough to listen to right now.

There seemed to be at least three levels. He could see at least one market through ahead through a large opening in the floor, and the small hospital was surrounded by strange makeshift buildings that looked like they might be houses. Up above the houses in small patches was a third level - gardens? He could hear some kind of animal somewhere, too. Off in the distance, on the other side of a glassy looking dome that covered the station, he could see a port with a collection of ships.

It would take nearly an hour of their slow walking through various short-cuts and through small crowds of people - humans, so many of them! In one place! - before they got to his ship. Hank explained that they would be welcome to stay until they were healed up, and that they would conduct whatever repairs they could to his stinger. He didn’t talk about how long this would take, or if they would be allowed to leave or if they would be escorted away, but he honestly didn’t care right now.

They were alive, that was all that mattered.

He also told Bucky that he would be expected to help out here and there, when he was physically able to. And then it came to the question of living arrangements.

“There was a.. A mechanic?”

“Anthony? He invited you?” Hank seemed surprised. While Bucky didn’t really feel like lying, he didn’t really want to go anywhere else either. There was something.. Drawing him, to the boy.

Maybe it was because he had probably half the parts to his arm in his workshop.

“He’s.. Fixing my arm. I was offering my assistance where I can..”

Damn, he hoped the kid went with his excuse. Hank seemed to see through it as well, but thankfully he didn’t argue it. Why he seemed to trust him around a kid after seeing fit to warn him about how no one trusted him? He didn’t know if he wanted to figure that out. Kids grew up too fast, as most of them were subjected to all kinds of tortures as a result of the damn war or being hunted.

He hated to think of the boy with the beautiful brown eyes as someone who had already been through hell a few times.

Hank lead him to a smaller neighborhood a ways away from the hospital where they started, though it was a little closer to the market hole. They passed some kind of shaggy animal - and some people milking them - and there were more children running around playing than Bucky thought he’d ever see in one place again. Well - human children, at least. Eventually they came to a small crescent of houses and pathways, a barrel and some pillows around it in the center. Clotheslines were strung between the second floors of the homes, and there was a small staircase curling around one of the end buildings to act as a shortcut to the level below.

Rather than leading him into a doorway he was taken to the staircase, gingerly stepping down to the more ‘warehouse’ portion of the colony. “If you are staying with the boy you will probably want to use these stairs while you recover. His workshop is below his home, but it is connected inside with a ladder.”

“How’s a kid get a workshop?” Bucky would never admit out loud that Hank’s smile creeped him out. Like he knew some horrible, hilarious joke that he wasn’t privy to.

“Anthony has many talents, and not many can compare to him when it comes to technology. You’ll see when you watch him work. I should warn you - he has an AI that assists him throughout the household. I would step carefully, if I were you.”

And there was the joke. By the sound of it, Bucky had tried to set himself up in what was probably the most surveilled place in the colony. It didn’t explain why no one seemed concerned in the slightest about sticking what might be a Hunter with some young mechanic, but in a way? The fact that said mechanic had an AI and the ‘mayor’ was amused by his choice of boarding partners? That alone was enough to know the kid was probably far more dangerous than Bucky looked.

Not that you’d be able to tell when you entered the workshop.

Music - honest to god Earth music - was blaring from the speakers around the messy workshop. Piles of parts, larger structures strung up and hanging from the ceiling for ease-of-access, drums of cool liquid, a smelting furnace, empty cups in awkward places among the parts. It looked like some strange mix of an apartment, a bar, a mechanic shop, and a blacksmith forge. Especially with the kid singing to the old music.

Anthony himself was a sight to see as well. He wore a tattered sweater - the same one he recognized from earlier - and gloves that were too large for his hands. There was a welding mask on his face and he was carrying a large crucible cup to a block of some kind. He suspected that it contained the molds for the parts he had taken with him. He looked too small to be in a place like this, but even then he couldn’t deny the strength it would take to hold something that heavy and pour it with such precision so as to not lose even a single drop.

Honestly, the only thing that overly worried him about how the kid looked was the fact that he was doing all of this without any damn shoes. The too-big-pants were probably a bit of a safety issue, too.

Hank and Bucky stood back and waited quietly as Anthony finished his casting work and put the crucible back beside the furnace to cool. It was then that JARVIS turned the music down - slowly, so he wouldn’t startle the boy, though he didn’t turn it off completely. Bucky couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips.

“Find a better place to be safe.. Hedley? You an’ Clint’ll get along great.” The kid turned and laughed, pulling off the mask to grin at the both of them.

“ _Wild Life_ , 2013. The guys bring in old discs and drives? I scan them for music, and if I find any - no matter what kind - I throw it into my archives! Figured that since not many people know how to convert the formats, I might as well stockpile them~! Great news! Now that I’ve molested your tech, and had a chance to make some babies, your extra parts should be ready to go by morning! So long as everything sets right.”

Hank rolled his eyes, muttering something about teenagers before placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “This one says he is with you, Anthony. Do you need any supplies?”

To his credit, the kid didn’t miss a beat. He just grinned at the older man and winked at Bucky.

“Nope! We’ve got everything set up~! Don’t worry, I won’t overwork him. And I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself~! We already worked out most of the finer details earlier, and Brucie-bear is going to help me take him to the market later for food.”

“Anthony..” Hank sighed out his name, almost more of a groan actually, while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bloody teenagers.. Just don’t blow anything up while you’re entertaining a house guest. I’m leaving now.” Tony grinned at Bucky - who looked an amusing mix of horrified and confused - as the old man’s voice called back from the door. “I don’t want another repeat of Solstice, either!”

“Yes sir!”

Bucky smirked at the boy, playing with the strap on his bag. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but.. “Solstice..?”

“Oh - _loads_ of fun! A runner brought back a bunch of booze, for the summer solstice? Yeah, we keep track of shit like that for whatever reason - not like we have a normal rotation anymore or anything. Anyway! This was last year. We snuck out to the party, not that it was that hard, and used our superior powers of persuasion to convince several of the runners to give some up~”

“Powers of persuasion, huh?”

“Hey - I can be convincing! Fine, don’t believe me. Just because you don’t have anything I want, Soldier Boy~” Bucky felt his eye twitch slightly. While he _was_ very pretty, and he wasn’t against youth? Doing anything that sounded like what he was suggesting with someone that looked barely legal consent age? Not his thing. “Anyway, long story short? We made a mess of the market after a bunch of us got drunk. Still don’t think it was fair they made US clean all of it - the older assholes did just as much damage as we did, if not more! Plus they were the ones that GAVE us the alcohol! Unfair, I tell you. Absolute cruelty!”

“I’m sure you got over it.”

“Ouch, no support there either, huh? So, what made you tell him you were with me? That worried about your parts?”

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up a bit, starting to feel exhausted again. This kid was like a damn whirlwind.. “Uhh - sorry.. I’m sure you’ll do well with them, but.. Couldn’t really think’a anythin’ else..” He didn’t say that he felt uncomfortable staying with strangers, but it looked like the boy understood that anyway. He definitely felt as if he met his new-person-quota for the year already. “Look - Anthony, I-”

“Tony.” Bucky raised a brow at him. “Seriously, the only reason they call me Anthony is because Yinsen’s daughter was here first. And they’re old. Some kinda’ formal thing, I guess. Call me Tony.”

“Right.. Tony.. Uhm..”

Tony stalked toward him with a small smile, dumping his gloves on a workbench before reaching to gently take Bucky’s hand and lead him back out to the stairs. “Lock up, Jay - think I’m done for tonight.”

_”Sir.”_

“Let’s get you upstairs, Bucky. Seriously, I don’t mind you staying here. Honestly it makes it easier for me to fix you up, anyway. Probably have a million questions for you when you’re up for it!” He frowned as he listened to Tony talk, following him up into the small apartment on the main level. He wasn’t so sure he felt much like talking about anything. When people had ‘questions’ they usually involved asking about how he got his arm, or what he did to get it.

Tony seemed to have a true ‘gift of the gab’, as he remembered his ma’ calling it. He could talk about anything, everything, and nothing, and still make it interesting to listen to. Bucky didn’t have to actively participate in it because he was doing it to fill the space in the air, apparently picking up on Bucky’s exhaustion. He had pushed him to the bathroom to change into his own clothes - stopping to appreciate, and let him know how much he appreciated, his form when he came out - while he made something to eat.

Tony wasn’t a cook. Not much of one, anyway. That didn’t mean he couldn’t cook well enough to get by - especially when he had JARVIS helpfully reminding him of when to check on things, despite the rather playful arguing he did in return - just that he was pretty low on the list of decent cooks. Thankfully, his dark-haired-adonis pushed himself off the small couch to help him season the kanji he was making. It honestly amused Bucky to see the kid making something like that, and he didn’t overly know why. Kanji was a kind of rice dish - rice slowly boiled down into a mushy, porridge like consistency, seasoned to best incorporate whatever meat or veggies you were putting in it. He didn’t recognize the meat or half the vegetables, but after a few tastes and some bickering they were able to figure it out.

Then another kid - Bruce, Tony helpfully pointed out - showed up and added some kind of cheese and hot spice mix that made it taste even better.

Eating with two people so much younger than him would never not be weird. He might not look it, but the damn serum would keep him and Steve alive for far longer than either of them would ever had wanted. Granted they still aged, just at a much, much slower rate than normal. Staying around people that were closer to his physical age didn’t even help much. Surprisingly enough though, these two had a humor so close to his own that he _almost_ forgot about it.

After they had eaten and cleaned up, Tony gathered a couple of boxes from his workshop and the three of them set off to the market. Bruce and him traded loads - Tony took one of his bags while he took one of the boxes - and they explained that this was how they paid for things. Tony collected and repaired anything he could to trade for food, clothes, and other goods. Bruce made tea mixes with Yinsen and did a few repair jobs of his own, like fixing up water filters or tuning and refurbishing old breathers.

Bucky tried to stay out of the way as the two wandered around the market making their deliveries and trading what they had for what they needed, ending up with several bags of flour and rice, some eggs and milk jars, and a couple of packages of that strange meat and cheese. Tony batored for a few extra blankets as well, wanting to keep Bucky as warm as he could since the station wasn’t the warmest at night.

Bucky discovered that, aside from luxuries, most things could easily be traded for some kind of work at the market. Vegetables and preserves were given away when they were ready, a strange form of low-trade exchange that was repaid by other sectors. Water and medicine were also part of the exchange system, and so were basic clothes. It was an intricate cycle meant to keep the basics circulating throughout the colony, and to ensure there was as little waste as possible.

Curiosity eventually got the better of him though and he asked Tony and Bruce about the vegetables. According to the clearly excited boys, the seeds had originally come from nearby planets and trade centers that were able to grow their own food. One of the old engineers had gotten the idea that they could create their own biosphere so long as they regulated the kinds of plants and animals they had on the station, as well as the heat systems to simulate a more natural day-night cycle for the plants. Thanks to Alcyone and the technology to collect ice particles, finding a location with plenty of light and water were actually the easiest parts of creating the biosphere.

Tony went on a tangent - with interjections from Bruce - about how the shutter systems were able to keep a good read on the carbon levels in the air, releasing excess carbon if it ever started to approach unsafe levels. Bucky really didn’t understand the more technological side of it, but it made the kid happy so he just plastered an interested smile on his face and listened. At least he wasn’t lying about being interested. Just the understanding part.

Nearly every home had at least one kind of oxygen-replenishing plant in it to help keep the atmosphere healthy, and plants lined the outside of many buildings that served the same purpose. He did find it funny that they had to smuggle the dirt out, though.

Apparently most planets weren’t ok with you taking buckets of dirt out of their atmosphere.

Who knew.

By time they had finally taken everything back to Tony’s Bucky was exhausted and dead on his feet. He had helped the kids carry some of their things, not wanting to feel any more like a charity case than he already did, which just drained his energy even more.

Tony didn’t give him the chance to think about much when they walked through the door however, gently helping him kick off his boots and guiding him up the stairs to the small bed. He didn’t register anything the brunette was saying, barely staying conscious enough to get to the bed and offer him a small grateful smile.

The soldier was fast asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone!


	9. Heavy Heads..

Bucky slowly opened his eyes, groaning softly as his head throbbed from the light coming from the window. _Damn.._

 _”Are you feeling better, Mister Bucky?”_ Despite the earlier warning and bit of exposure, the man still jumped at hearing the disembodied voice speaking directly to him.

“I.. Yeah.. I’m good.. What..?”

_”Sir brought you upstairs when the three of you returned from your market trip. You have been asleep for six hours and twenty seven minutes, and the time is currently nine fifty three. Sir helped Mister Banner carry his supplies back to his home, and has brought back a dinner that appears to be in Mister Banner’s cooking style.”_

“Why’d’a le’me sleep s’long..?” he slurred, trying to rub the fatigue from his body as he sat up. “Where ar’the’ now..?”

_”Sir has noted that you require your rest to fully recover, and has stated that when you awaken he shall heat up your dinner. He is currently preparing to tell his nesting tale to the children outside, and Mister Banner is in his residence. Shall I inform sir of your awakening?”_

“Naah.. Nesting tale?”

_”It is a practice started many years ago as a way to strengthen a sense of community, and to help preserve human history in ways that do not involve text studies. An adult, or anyone old enough to remember Earth as it was, tells the children that attend a story before they are to go to bed. It took some time for him to become comfortable with talking, but sir was added to the rotation a couple of years ago. He usually leaves the story choice to the children gathered.”_

The Soldier hummed softly and pushed himself into a sitting position, looking around the small room. There were some clothes folded on the shelves, quite a few worn, leather-bound books stacked on the floor against the walls, and small trinkets from Earth sitting proudly on the mounted shelves. An old hat, a few colorful toy cars, some odd figurines - a Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, of all the ironies! - and some toy soldiers missing their limbs.

There was a couple pictures, too. One of a woman with Tony’s honey eyes and fair skin, holding a tiny boy that he could only assume was Tony. They looked so much alike that there was no doubt in his mind that she was his mother. She held him on a grassy field, pointing at the person holding the camera and clearly struggling to hold the squirming boy. He recognized where they were - it was a park in Manhattan. Squished in beside that one in the frame was a small one of an old man in the same park, much too old to be carrying that same boy on his back. If he was his father then the boy took completely after his mother.

Another frame had the boy that was obviously Tony, still growing into his limbs, leaning against two other kids about his age. The boy was a bit taller, and the girl was small enough that the two of them could easily lift her in their arms for the picture - though by how off-balance they were he was certain they fell over after it was taken. They were wearing clothes that were too big on them, some kind of uniform, and in some kind of alien garden with an odd dog-like-creature watching them in the back.

Bucky decided he didn’t like how the creature was looking at the kids.

The last frame had the two boys leaning against one another in a small bed. They were covered head to toe in bandages, Tony’s arm wrapped in a sling and the other boy’s leg was splinted straight. They had split lips, Tony had a black eye, they both had bandages around their heads and in small patches over their shoulders, chests, and arms. Despite all this damage, the two of them were clearly proud of themselves and happy to see the person taking the picture - joy and pride were radiating from their eyes and the grins that split across their young faces.

With a small smile he turned away from the pictures, trying not to think of what might have happened to the kids. It was going to take him a few minutes to limp down the stairs. The wounds and bruises may have healed, but his body was still sore from the exhaustion.

“Tony’s a bit of a fighter..? Those his friends?”

_”Moreso than you would likely assume, Mister Barnes. As you have correctly surmised, those are indeed sir’s friends. Miss Virginia and Mister James - known to sir as Pepper and Rhodie, respectively. Much like with Mister Bruce and Miss Toni, sir considers Miss Virginia and Mister James to be like his siblings.”_

“Must be somethin’ special, then. Bet they all get along like a house on fire. You been with Tony long?” If they were as close as he and Steve were, they probably were a real family.

 _“I have been in sir’s employment since my creation by him at the age of ten years.”_ Was that.. Pride? In the voice of an AI? _”Regrettably, I am unable to determine their wellbeing.”_

 _So they weren’t here, then._ “Maybe you’ll see’em again someday. Christ - he made you? At ten?!” No wonder the colony wasn’t worried about him building and repairing shit on his own.

_”I can indeed hope, Mister Bucky. Sir has started some tea, and it should be completed once his tale is finished for the night.”_

Bucky glanced around the small room when he was done with his fight with the stairs, grabbing a cup of water before carefully lowering himself onto the small couch. He could hear voices outside, and he could see out the window from his spot on the couch. Tony was sitting on the barrel with kids gathered around him, Dr. Cho handing out cups to everyone gathered and trying to corral the young ones together. She was determined, he’d give her that much - kids were nearly impossible to control or predict when you were an authority figure. Tony proved that easily enough when he started talking, the kids instantly focusing on him.

He was soft-spoken when he talked, despite the suspense and emotion in the story itself. He was also quite expressive - talking a lot with his hands and his body language. He was a talker, a storyteller, an entertainer, and Bucky could already tell that when he grew he’d be a true charmer. It was easy to lose himself in the tale.

The story was incredible. Anyone old enough to remember the destruction of their home would leave with some terrifying stories, but to be close enough to know about the Titan Project? Steve and Bucky knew, mostly because Steve was helping out as extra security whenever needed. Bucky had been recovering from years of abuse and torture, so he couldn’t do much in the beginning, but he had eventually recovered enough to do some simple escorts as a form of work therapy. He was able to run three missions before the call came to mobilize and defend the Earth from the Drej.

Not that it had made any difference.

It didn’t take long for Tony’s story to come to an end. Bucky watched the younger kids say farewell to the teen with a small smile. This was a good community.. Most Drifter Colonies were pretty friendly and close to one another, but it was another thing entirely to be able to see the strength of the community. Steve would love to see this. Bucky and Clint had definitely lucked out, being found by them.

He stayed quiet when Tony first entered, letting him start to get his tea before quietly speaking out. “So how old were you..?” His efforts to not scare him paid off - either he somehow knew he was watching, or he was legitimately that relaxed with a strange man in his home. Aside from a little tension in his shoulders, the boy didn’t seem worried in the slightest.

Tony chuckled softly, a faraway look in his honey brown eyes as he glanced over. He took another moment to pour two cups of tea and to put their dinner in a pot to reheat it. Then he walked over to Bucky, sitting on a stool and offering him one of the mugs of tea. “I was eight.. Here, drink this too. You shouldn’t be up - your body needs proper rest if you want it to heal right.”

 _Damn, he’s only fifteen?!_ “It’ll heal.. What happened with your eyes?”

“There was a doctor on our car, so most of us didn’t lose much. He wrapped some bandages around our heads - anyone who was looking at the explosions - and had some kind of drops he put in them every few hours from his bag. Mom thought I’d be blind with how bad my eyes were for a while, but.. Long story short they got a bit better. My right is mostly fine now.”

Bucky nodded a bit and held out his hand to Tony. This confused the kid for a moment before he relaxed, sliding his stool closer and leaning forward for the soldier. Bucky gently reached out to brush Tony’s hair away from his face while the boy retracted the strange half-visor, blinking his eyes back into a comfortable level of focus before opening them wide. He didn’t mind that Bucky wanted to look - though admittedly he did feel a little.. Exposed, especially with how intense his icy blue eyes were. Tony’s left eye was slightly discolored - the honey brown that should have spread across both eyes tinged by a light fog - but it still focused sharply on Bucky’s face.

Again, it probably said something with how seemingly trusting and relaxed he was with a strange man.

“Left..?”

“I can see.. But not really without my specs. It’s kind of.. Like seeing dark shapes rather than actual details? Used to get pretty sick with the distortion before I got used to it.”

“Sounds like a headache..” Seriously - that meant he’d be able to see in full detail in one eye, and if he focused with both he would have an overlay of some odd, misplaced shadows. “You’re lucky. Seen many men get worse than that. Hell, m’partner lost his ears after a stunt too close to somethin’ like that.”

Tony gave him a non-committal hum before pulling back, replacing the visor over his eye. He wrapped his fingers around the warm cup while he waited for his eyes to adjust again.

“He’s lucky he’s still in one piece from what I can see. I’ll take a look at those aids tomorrow - at least they shouldn’t need to be completely removed. The component that I’ll need to fix should pop out easy.. I should have enough in the shop to get them back up to proper order. And Brucie figures he should wake up in another day or two no problem.”

“There’s no rush, kid. You said yourself - Clint’ll take a few days t’wake up. He can communicate just fine without hearin’.” The flash of rebellion returned to his eyes, the corner of Tony’s mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Keep calling me kid? I’ll work the inside of your arm to play inconvenient music every time you try to get lucky.”

“Now, see that? That jus’ tells me you ARE a kid.” Bucky was trying to sound reprimanding, but the grin on his face was completely throwing that intention out the window. They both laughed for a few minutes before relaxing once again, Tony getting up to dish out the food.

“Brucie made it - some kind of spicy rice thing called curry. I swear he’s addicted to this kind of food. He says it’s nothing like what his parents used to make, but it’s as close as he can get it. I don’t know - I think it’s pretty good either way.” Bucky smiled and ate, listening to Tony rattle on about Bruce’s hobby of mixing spices to try to recreate flavors they had back on Earth. Apparently many people were fond of those spice mixes, though the more complicated ones to create - like the curry one - were only really used as treats because of how expensive the base ingredients were. That touched him more than he thought it would - that these kids would make something like this for him and try to pass it off as nothing.

“So.. Your arm is obviously not your original? But.. I gotta’ ask..” _Here we go.. Uncomfortable question time.._ “What other enhancements do you have?”

That.. Wasn’t quite what he was expecting. Normally the question of how he got the damn thing was what people wanted to know. After he got over his moment of surprise he smiled, poking at his food.

“.. Serum.. High grade.. Healing, strength, the works.”

“No more techy parts..?” Tony sighed when Bucky shook his head, seeming.. Relieved? Disappointed? He wasn’t sure what the kid was feeling. “That’s good, I guess. On a few levels. Less to worry about getting fried in the damn storms. You know - while we’re fixing up your ship? I can see if I can insulate it better?” He grinned at Bucky’s confused look. “How’d you think we get on so well out here? Some old guy a while back figured out how to insulate most of our tech against the ion storms. Untraceable, and a surprisingly easy addition to most small craft. It’s the bigger ones that make it more difficult to defend.”

“Uhh.. Sure. Thanks..!” Bucky would have to remember to ask him for a few more for the others later. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the credits saved up for stuff like this, and there was no way Stevie would argue any cost with protecting their crew from those damn storms.

The two relaxed into a more casual conversation after that, Tony telling Bucky more about the colony and what he planned to do to fix his arm and Clint’s aids. Apparently he was some kind of freaky technology geneous. Which, all things considered, didn’t overly surprise him. He kept an eye on him as Tony gathered the dishes, cleaning the mess in the kitchen and putting the leftovers away in the small fridge.

“How long have you been out here? Far off place for a kid.”

“Not _that_ far. Far is actually almost safer.. Less to deal with, even if general risk is higher. I’ve been here.. Something like three years now? Or almost three, at any rate. And quit it with the kid stuff! Seriously! I _do_ have some pretty embarrassing music, you know! I’m almost sixteen. That’s not a kid.” Not anymore, at least.

“To me? You’re a kid.”

“Please, you’re like - what, nearing thirty? Twenty six, at the most, Brooklyn! And yeah - I remember what the New York accents sound like. Kinda’ missed the Brooklyn drawl, to be honest~”

Bucky snorted, picking at the wrapping around his arm as he tried to figure him out more. He didn’t even want to consider what that not-so-subtle flirting lilt to Tony’s voice suggested. “If you knew how old I was, you wouldn’t think that.”

“Come on - you know my age. Tell me! Twenty seven, right? That’d put you in your early twenties when shit hit the fan!” Tony watched him, rattling off a few more guesses before groaning. “C’mon - tell me!”

“Nope, it’s the secret t’my powers, kid. Can’t have you sapping my strength f’your own evil schemes.” Tony snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Dork. Fine, don’t tell me. How about your work? What the hell brought you this far out?”

Bucky smiled softly at him, starting to feel tired again. Even back on the _Avenger_ he didn’t get this much excitement in one damn day. He told him a bit about the _Avenger_ and the crew, about the scavenging work they did and the different places they had been to on treasure-hunting trips. He didn’t know how long he talked - too wrapped up in a story about the time him, Clint and Brock set off a trap in a set of old runes not ten minutes after Sam told them not to touch anything. By time he started to nod off though, Tony had cleaned up their dishes, poured the last back - apparently they had three - of the tea, and was helping him up the stairs back to the bed.

“S’your bed, kid..”

“Seriously - last warning, buddy! Say it again? And you’ll be hearing Funky Town every morning to get your ass out of bed.”

“Cruelty, seriously.”

“Seriously? I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. I’ll fit on it easier than you - don’t you dare make a height joke - and everyone’s always telling me that people heal better on actual beds. Drink the rest of your tea.”

Bucky smirked at him but nodded, slowly stretching out on the bed and sipping at his cup. He felt exhausted, but he was trying to fight it. “Fine.. No height jokes… But y’gotta’ tell me ‘bout them..?”

Tony blinked, following his motion toward the pictures on his little shelves. He smiled sadly, and reached up to take the frame with the old man in it. “Maria and Edward.. My mom, and our butler. Jay’s namesake, actually - Edward Jarvis. This was a few years before the attack.. Spending the day at the park, eating ice cream and these awesome cookies his wife made..”

“Your old man..?”

“Heh, he wasn’t around much. Spent most of my time with mom, or the Jarvis’. Or with tutors. Dad wanted to send me off to a private school, but mom wouldn’t have it. Made some kind of deal to keep me home at least until I turned ten. Heh, guess one good thing came out of the Earth blowing up. No boarding school.” Bucky made a face at how relaxed Tony was at saying that. Sure, boarding school probably would have sucked - especially the schools from his own childhood. It was just.. A little shocking how at ease Tony seemed when talking about it.

Maybe because he was young?

“Sucks.. Don’t really remember mine.. Was a soldier - died when I was a kid. Ma’ picked up another job t’support us.”

“Us..?”

“Heh, my best friend - his ma’ was always workin’ t’support him. Punk was always sick. Spent a lot o’time with us.” He had two sisters too, but they had died before the fallout. “What ‘bout the others..?”

Tony smiled, taking the now empty cup from the quickly fading man and gently helping to push him back onto the bed. “Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow. Maybe. Oh - I have to help fix up a reactor core tomorrow morning, so I might not be here when you wake up. Just.. Stick around, there’s a shower in the shop if you want to wash up. Might not be a good idea until I fix up your arm, actually - oh! There’s a wash basin in the bathroom, I’ll leave some soap and a couple cloths for you. And something to eat in the fridge.”

He grinned as he heard Bucky give him a small grunting sound, waiting long enough to see if he was asleep before gently tucking him in. After collecting the cup he returned to the main floor, finishing off the dishes and grabbing a blanket so he could take a nap. He never really slept much, anyway. “Jay, wake me up in a couple hours, will you?”

_”An early start to the day, sir?”_

“Yeah.. Cho never specified what morning was. Maybe I’ll finish early. Anything he needs help with, give him a hand. And Jay..? Keep an eye on him, will you..?” Tony was wary around Bucky, as was everyone else around the colony. Really, it was funny that Bucky chose to stay with Tony - though he doesn’t know anyone in the colony, so he supposed that the only thing really funny about it was the irony aspect. He knew Bucky was dangerous.

_”Indeed, sir.”_

A killer wearing a human’s skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More talking!


	10. .. Heavy Hearts

When morning finally came, Bucky managed to mostly sleep through it. His whole being had been exhausted over the last few days, and despite how much rest he was getting he found he could still hibernate.

 

_”Good morning, Mister Bucky. The time is eleven thirty six, Sir has returned from his repairs in the reactor room and has taken up his work in the basement. He has also left the aforementioned wash cloths in the bathroom, as well as a breakfast of bread, cheese, and cured meat. That, paired with some of the light greens in the fridge, should make a decent breakfast.”_

 

Bucky smiled tiredly, not wanting to know how he knew he was awake. “Cookin’ tips..?” He pushed himself out of the bed and rummaged through his bag for a new shirt, carrying it downstairs to the small bathroom so he could freshen up. He could hear the music clear through the hatch. It made him wonder for the poor kid’s eardrums.

 

_”As Sir’s caretaker, helping prepare food is one of my hobbies. Despite my lack of physical form, of course. It makes sense I should aid you as well, after observing your endeavors with Sir and the kanji.”_

 

He chuckled at his sass, struggling to get his old shirt and the sling off so he could clean up. He wasn’t looking forward to retying the damn thing, either. In the end he tied the sling before slipping it over his head, using the counter and the wall to brace the metal arm so he could slip it back inside. It wasn’t until he had made two sandwiches - one for himself and one for Tony - that he slipped out around the building to get to the stairs.

 

Bucky felt a grin tugging at his lips when he recognized the words - to a ridiculous old song that he absolutely loved. He had an old music player back on the ship, and had managed to track down two of the band’s CDs over the years. Well - to be fair, he already had one, so technically he only had to hunt for the second. For his guilty pleasure of _Panic! At The Disco_? It was worth it.

 

_We’re going down, down, in an earlier round_

 

He gently placed the sandwiches on a nearby, mostly clear table.

 

_And, sugar, we’re going down swingin’_

 

Tony was bent over a collection of parts, sanding down some seams and checking for any imperfections, mouthing the words to the song.

 

_I’ll be your number one, with a bullet, a loaded God complex_

 

Bucky grinned and leaned forward beside his free ear, looking over his shoulder. “Cock it and pull it~”

 

“HOLYSHIT!”

 

Tony’s arm swung back, catching Bucky on the hip and causing him to take a couple steps back with a wince. Damn - the hell did he hit him with? A wrench? He reached down to put his hand over the quickly forming bruise, glancing up with a lopsided grin. “Heh, sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare ya.”

 

“You didn’t scare me! Nope! Dunno’ what you’re talking about!” Tony had jumped up, quickly shoving his hands into his pocket to hide some of his nerves. “Jay - the hell?! You were supposed to tell me he was up!”

 

_”I did, Sir. You told me, and I quote, ‘yes, good, make sure he - damn that doesn’t belong there, at least the damn thing isn’t cracked, where is the’-”_

 

“Got it, got it. Shit. There goes a good ten years off my damn life - you shouldn’t be able to move that quiet, you god damned tree..” Bucky grinned wider at him, moving to get the plate and bring it over to him, sitting at the bench to watch him work.

 

“Might help if y’didn’t work so hard to kill your ears. Here, made one f’you too. Eat. You’re too skinny.”

 

“I’ll have you know-”

 

“What’s this crap?”

 

Tony gave another squawk at his words, quickly sitting down beside him and taking the offered sandwich as he berated him on his use of the word ‘crap’ with any of his handiwork. Bucky didn’t overly care about being scolded, though. Tony hadn’t been holding anything when he hit him.

 

At least, he didn’t think he was..

 

“And besides, this ‘crap’? Happens to be all the new parts for that piece of scrap hanging off of your shoulder! I can’t believe you’ve been carrying that shit around for this long. Pretty much everything in there needs to be replaced, and I casted everything I’ll need for it last night. Looks like everything set beautifully, too, so we can work on putting it back together after this. I’ve got some wires here too, cause a couple of yours are wearing down.”

 

The kid took a big bite of his sandwich after asking him to talk more about his work, Bucky smirking and falling into a few more stupid stories - sorry, Sam - about at least three of them doing something they shouldn’t. And one person - again, sorry Sam - having to bail them out. Then Steve - dear god - giving them his legendary ‘I’m disappointed in you’ speech each and every damn time. He kept an eye on Tony while he worked, his fingers carefully going over every inch of each part and a file always on standby in case something needed to be smoothed out. This is the kind of work that Astor would have loved to see, and loved even more to have working with her.

 

He made a note to tell her about the young mechanic someday, even if he couldn’t get them to meet. It’d make her happy to know there were talented youth in the business.

 

By time Bucky was done eating - and talking - Tony had finished his food and his prep work. Tony moved to get a rolling chair, locking the wheels into place by the bench and getting Bucky to move to it. If anything because it’d be easier to raise him up so he could work properly on his arm. “Put that lump of scrap on the table and try not to fidget. Might as well keep talking, since I have to go through the whole damn thing.”

 

Bucky frowned. “Whole thing? You’re just replacing a couple’a pieces, though..” The grin he got in return made him feel.. Uneasy? He wasn’t sure, but that kind of glee on a teenager’s face, when said teenager was a few feet away from a blowtorch? Yeah.

 

“I said good as new the other day, didn’t I? No chance would I just replace a couple shitty parts~”

 

Without really giving him a chance to argue Tony talked him into submission - something Bucky hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Steve didn’t count because he did that whole puppy-eyes-of-death routine on you while he spoke. This kid just.. Talked. Like his words were dancing circles around your head while his body gently guides you to whatever direction he wants you to go in. Yeah, he’d be a showman when he grew up, for sure. Or possibly some kind of diplomat, if he ever got out of the ass-end of the galaxy.

 

Then again, with the kind of community they had going, he didn’t imagine Tony would probably want to leave.

 

Three hours passed in the time it took Tony to completely strip what was left of his arm, including two fingers, and to reassemble almost half of it. He tried to keep talking but honestly? He kept getting distracted by Tony. The only people he had seen work on his arm with this kind of confidence were his original technicians and Howard - though even he didn’t seem to actually know what to do with all the parts and connections. It was like this kid was speaking to the damn tech.

 

At the halfway point through hour four he finally gave up talking, watching with the kind of hopeless amazement one gets from having to deal with something half broken for most of their life. Which, point to him he supposed. “Ok, I give - this’ too damn distracting. Tell me ‘bout one o’those pictures in your room.”

 

Tony just laughed, his eyes flicking up to Bucky’s face as he considered it. It wasn’t as if his past would particularly hurt him or anything.. Not if he didn’t tell the whole story, at least. “Uhm.. Ok? Which one? Careful, this might be the last story I tell you~”

 

“Last? I’ve told you, like - ’least six!”

 

“Yeah, but you’ve been around longer. You have more stories to tell.”

 

If only the kid knew. “Fine.. The kids with the weird dog?”

 

Tony shivered a bit, making a face at the memory. “That damn thing never left us alone.. They’re called Jackal Hounds, I think.. Nasty damn tempers, a preference for any kind of meat it can get, and some kind of acid on their teeth. Works away at any wound it gives you unless you wash it out real damn good.”

 

“And it was watchin’ you because..?”

 

“Hey, you said one story. That’d be two. Anyway - mom took the picture. I think I was ten? Rhodie was twelve, and it was Pep’s birthday. She just turned eight.. We were on the same shuttle off Earth, met Rhodie a year later in transit. Heh, mom got her hands on some toys for her birthday? And enough ingredients to make an honest-to-god cake! Pep was so excited she couldn’t stop dancing around and singing some stupid song - I don’t even remember what it was. Actually, I don’t think she knew what it was either, just sang it because it was familiar. Mom called us to take a picture? So she dragged us out of the house and threw herself on top of us!

 

“We fell over the first time, I think mom got a picture of that too, and this was the third take. The second was us trying to lift her into the air and falling again. Though, we fell over after this too, actually.. The hound stayed back, didn’t bug us. Then we went inside for food - mom made bucatini carbonara, then we had the cake which managed to get more over our faces than inside us, if I remember right.”

 

“Bucatini carbonara? You Italian?” Human families he met had a tendency to cook comfort foods whenever they could and out of whatever they could get their hands on, which normally meant food from either their heritage or food they themselves ate as kids.

 

Tony grinned and winked at him, reinstalling the last piece before grabbing his smallest screwdriver to begin fine-tuning it. “Let me know if you feel any twinges or discomfort - and when I tap on a finger? Move it and tell me what the response time is like. Want to get it as close to your flesh hand as possible. We’ll work on wrist, elbow, and shoulder after.” Bucky gave him a bit of - what he assumed was - a baffled frown. Tony just laughed again.

 

“Genious~! You can thank me later. And yes, mom was Italian. Not really sure what dad was.. She taught the three of us how to speak it, too. And some recipes. Dunno’ how she remembered all of them, though.”

 

“So, all o’you lived t’gether..? Must’a been a tight fit - kids an’ adults in the same space. That one’s good.” Tony nodded and moved to the next finger, worrying at his lip and thinking about it for a moment while he fixed the next two fingers.

 

“Rhodie’s parents died, at least we think they did.. He was alone when we met him, so mom took him in. Pep’s mom was around for a bit, but she got real sick just after Rhodie came along. We couldn’t fix it..” Bucky frowned as he picked up on the undertone - _I couldn’t fix it_. What kind of a childhood did a kid have to make themself feel like they had to try to fix something like that..? He knew he’d probably never get the whole story, though. He could tell there was a lot Tony wasn’t telling him, especially in the deflection.

 

“Musta’ been hard.. There’s some things no one can fix, no matter how much we may want it. Clear..” Tony gave him a small smile before moving to the last finger, which thankfully only took a half turn to calibrate. Then it was onto the wrist and elbow joints.

 

“We got through. I don’t think Pep understood, at first.. Not for a couple weeks.. Then it kicked in that her mom was never coming back, and she cried for days. Which was fine, really - turn it? Awesome - that was easy. The wrist was supposed to be harder than the elbow! Not looking forward to the shoulder joint though. Not going to lie.” Tony tweaked the elbow - it was easier because it didn’t have to pivot much, not like the wrist and shoulder had to - and went to the last step. The damn shoulder.

 

“It was real freaky when she just.. Got quiet. She didn’t want to eat, though mom could convince her to do pretty much anything to keep her healthy. Then she just sorta’ latched onto mom and me.. She was the only one in the group with a kid at the time so mom kinda’ just adopted her. Not like there was anyone to challenge her on legitimacy or anything. And I don’t honestly think aliens care much, unless you’re unlucky enough to get caught in one of those disgusting breeding programs.”

 

Bucky winced, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Sometimes, in areas of the galaxy where human slaves were seen as long-lived pets, they would be paired up in ‘breeding dens’, a lot like the programs professional dog breeders would go for. Then they cared about your genealogy, wanting specific traits out of the offspring. They had taken down a couple of rings a few years ago, but even Fury was having a hard time tracking the dens down. Finding a slave trade in general was a lot harder now, considering how much bigger their ‘world’ was.

 

“What happened..?” Bucky lowered his voice, a little worried he would be stepping over a boundary.

 

Tony appeared to think about his answer, chewing on his lip a little more while he tweaked the last of Bucky’s shoulder and got him to test the movement, quickly snapping each of the new panels into place and aligning them with the old ones. His silence was more than enough of an answer for Bucky, so he was surprised when the kid spoke again. “Honestly..? I don’t know. We got.. Separated. A bit over three years ago.. Guess I got lucky enough to be shuttled around until I wound up out here. All things considered, I actually got here pretty quick..” At that he closed off again, his smirk returning to his face as he gathered his tools and moved to put them away.

 

“Come on, strong-arm, need you to work out a bit. And I have to work on a few casts, so you might as well help out around here so I can keep an eye on your arm.”

 

Bucky’s head was spinning, the man caught up between Tony’s story and watching his arm move better than it had when he had first gotten it. It took him a moment to catch up, blinking twice before smoothly opening his mouth. “.. Huh?”

 

Some Barnes Charm, right there. True Barnes Charm.

 

Thankfully, Tony just took it in stride with a laugh. “Yeah, the old man told you about helping out to earn your keep, right? Think of this like that - except I get to babysit you today. Need to keep an eye on your arm, make sure that it doesn’t wig out at all. We can open you up more to other things after we make sure it’s up-to-snuff, hey? You ok there?”

 

The soldier blinked, realizing that the teen was standing in front of him now as he tore his eyes away from his arm. Something must have been really off about his expression because the kid just grinned at him. Again, his mouth decided to overwhelm Tony with his elegance.

 

“Huh..?”

 

Tony laughed again. “Are you alright up there? You look like someone hit you in the head! Or dangled something shiny in front of you - oh look, something shiny~” He grinned and winked at him, ignoring his soft groan.

 

“Yeah.. Alright.. But Tony?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Put on some damn shoes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing with the idea of writing some young Tony chapters here and there.. Hmm..
> 
> Edit: I completely unintentionally referenced Autonomy, but it is completely hilarious now that someone awesome has pointed it out to me! I can't believe I forgot about shoes!! ;A;
> 
> Oh shoes, no one truly appreciates your toe protection until something happens.


	11. Trapped in My Mind..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of the past, not completely necessary to read for the story to make sense, so if you feel like you want to skip it then skip it!
> 
> WARNINGS: Dark themes, suggested underage sex, some gore, topics of slavery, experimentation, and abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might not make it online on Monday or the weekend to post this, so it is going up super early. Again, not a super necessary chapter for the story to progress, but its here for those who feel like reading.
> 
> WARNINGS: Dark themes, suggested underage sex, some gore, topics of slavery, experimentation, and abuse.

“SCATTER!”

 

The trio quickly disbanded, each going their own separate way as howling filled the night air. They wouldn’t make it, not if the Hounds had already been sent out. Fifty feet ahead was a window with a ledge - their best bet at escape. James bolted for it, using his longer legs to propel him fast enough so he could pry it open for his friend.

 

The friend that wasn’t even close to being behind him, and the owner of a terrified cry as he came face-to-face with a Hound.

 

James’ eyes went wide and he turned back, unable to do more than watch and run as he the smaller boy reached for a vase to defend himself.

 

“TONY!”

~ * ~

“Ow! Hey! Watch your legs, sprout!”

 

“Dumb tree-legs! Just cause you’re growing!”

 

Laughter filled the courtyard, the boys rolling in the grass as they struggled to gain dominance over the other. It was the end of a long day, one boy following the other around in his tasks in an attempt to teach him. Unfortunately, teaching a ten-year-old wasn’t easy when you were best friends and would rather play than clean. At least no one caught on. And they didn’t break anything.

 

Still though, it took them far longer than it should have to clean the guest chambers and scrub the hall floors.

 

The second they hit the small courtyard in the shelters, all bets were off. Wrestling was a much better way to spend your time than cleaning, no matter what the consequences.

 

“Anthony! James! Sprigati!”

 

The two boys giggled as they pulled away from one another, not worrying about the grass stains on their knees and edging around the Hound enclosure on the side of the yard to get to their home.

 

It wasn’t much, but it was a decent home with decent seals on the windows and doors to stop the colder nights from dropping the temperature too much. There was a small kitchen with an oven, a sink, and a set of shelves in the same room as a makeshift couch and bath basin. There was also two small rooms Maria had set aside for the boys and girls - her and little Virginia sharing one while the boys shared the other.

 

Pepper giggled when they entered the room, jumping around wearing the knitted hat Maria had made for her birthday a few days ago and clapping her small hands. “Maaaaariiiia! They’re all dirty!”

 

“I know, dear.” she sighed, smiling fondly at the boys and pointing to the corner of the room. “Go! Wash up, my piccoli uccelli. We are almost done with dinner. Virginia, come - help me with the dough.”

 

“Si, mama!” All three replied at once, the boys racing off for the first bathing rights and losing bits of their uniform along the way. After a sharp word from Maria they raced back out - causing the small girl to burst into another fit of giggles - to collect their clothes and disappear back behind the divider. Thankfully, the water was still warm.

 

Maria hummed with the small girl beside her, showing her how to pull bits of the dough and stretch it out on the hot oven to quickly cook it, much like flatbread. By time the boys were finishing their washing-up the small house would be filled with her singing - an old Italian love song - and the mixing smells of stew and bread. Which, soon after, devolved into three children scream-singing along with her voice between fits of giggles.

 

It didn’t take long for a few of the older residents to pass by, some with children of their own, on their way home as well. They had gotten lucky - two of the workers were also Italian, so Maria and the others were able to show many of the kids their heritage. The slave residences were much like a community, no matter how disheartening or uncertain their positions were. They always found a way to make the best of their situation.

 

The residence was tucked away inside the main compound, hidden not only from the public eye but from the protection of the Alliance - made up of various groups that fought for equality across the galaxy - and the Human Preservation act. People from many different species were bought and sold on the black markets, then shuttled out of the jurisdiction range of the Alliance and hidden away on either outskirt planets or planets within the protection of larger empires. If the owner was rich enough they could ‘legally’ own slaves, as diplomats or representatives of other planets, but in general the slaves were kept well hidden.

 

This group wasn’t that lucky.

 

They were stuck on Felvan, a planet under Kree rule and mostly inhabited by the Shi’ar Empire in all its multi-species glory. They were a metropolitan, one of the leaders in fashion and technology across the galaxy, and therefore home to some of the largest corporate tech groups this side of the galaxy. Viastone was one such company. In the beginning it was a budding Earth-based company, the founders having decided to reach out to other markets across the galaxy. They had made contracts with races such as the Aakon and the Badoon, focusing the first sixty years of their empire’s lifetime on enhancing their research and technological advancement.

 

By time the Earth caught up with their research for the Rebirth program, Viastone had spent almost a hundred years building their home base on Felvan, forming more and more contracts with various species and becoming one of the most advanced tech spearheads from Earth. It was also at this time that the owners had struck a deal with both the Kree and the Phalanx, the current CEO having grown suspicious of the tension between the Drej and the Humans. They would have the support - and protection - of both empires so long as they continued their work, and helped to forge a stronger bond between their groups.

 

While the Phalanx had eventually pulled back - as they were a hive collective, and couldn’t support such a diverse system when they believed in the ultimate unity - the Kree had arranged for a union with Viastone and the Shi’ar. The CEO was only too willing to hand out his own daughter, as well as men and women alike from the company, to participate in what was a glorified breeding program. The children born of these unions were raised to be the next generation of leaders, and eventually chose husbands and wives of their own.

 

By time the Earth was destroyed - nearly eighty years later - Viastone had formed blood alliances with the Shi’ar and Kree that were nearly two hundred years strong. Viastone’s blood still had a human element to it, but it was so mixed that the Drej didn’t feel the need to eliminate what they believed to be the ‘Human Threat’. It wasn’t that they were concerned about attacking a group and possibly enraging at least two other empires - the Drej were entities of pure energy, nothing could harm them the way they could eliminate other species - it was that they believed this new hybrid species to not be worth the effort.

 

Viastone’s primary focus was technological advancement and weaponry, their secondary focus was in biological interfacing. They were one of fifteen licenced body modification companies within ten sectors. That didn’t mean they bothered to stick to the licenced work, though. While slavery was perfectly legal in this section of the galaxy, the laws were pretty grey in what was considered proper treatment across the galaxy. Viastone excelled in exploiting grey areas, and hiding their tracks behind red tape.

 

Finding slaves was easy. Maria’s group, Shuttle 79, had been taken fairly early. With most of their occupants wounded and the lone doctor too concerned for the passengers to flee, the whole shuttle was quickly taken at an isolated outpost on the way to an emergency relief center. They were branded together as a group - a neat 79 seared onto a spot on their pelvis’ - and they were catalogued and grouped together. Some were eventually shipped off for the breeding dens across the galaxy, but others were taken to several black markets across the eastern sectors. That was how they met James.

 

He was added to the group, partially out of laziness on the part of their captors - no one wanted to find a spot for a single kid, and no one cared where he ended up since he was sick - and partially because their slave driver was a greedy old bastard. It didn’t care how little the boy might sell for, so long as he sold. Thus, James was branded and carted along with Maria.

 

By time her and the children had been bought, James was healthy once more and the four of them had started to present as a true family. They never did find out why that attracted Viastone.

 

After they were bought they were branded once more - a stylized ‘V’ now surrounding their number - and shipped to Felvan. Maria had immediately been put to work cleaning, and Virginia, James and Anthony were taken to an ‘education’ facility.

 

All in all, it wasn’t a horrible existence.. They were given food, they had clean clothes and a place to live, and they were allowed to stay with other humans. So long as they didn’t present any special skills and did their work without raising incident, they had what could be considered a peaceful life at Viastone.

 

Once Anthony had started building things, and James had started play fighting more with the other boys, Maria had to work a lot harder to keep any talents or skills well hidden.

 

Those skills are what had the boys in this particular situation to begin with.

 

As soon as Maria was asleep that night, tucked away with Virginia in her arms, they cracked their door open and crept toward the courtyard. They had to be careful not to alert any of the sleeping households around them, as most windows would be open at this time of the year. Felvan tended to have very hot, humid summers, no matter what part of the planet you were stuck on. He could hear a few of the other kids after a few minutes of walking, grinning nervously at James when one voice stood out above the others.

 

Tiberius Stone, a young hybrid that seemed to enjoy ‘slumming’ with the slave kids. He was older than most of them, turning sixteen in a few weeks, but that only served to make him almost a ‘leader’ of their little group. It had started a few years ago, before the 79th joined the Viastone Collective, and the two friends couldn’t help but be attracted to the other kids. He was fourth in line for control of the company, and wouldn’t likely ever get past that point because of the percentage of human blood in his veins. That didn’t stop him from getting the same education and military training as the other Keystone children in the compound, and it fueled his love for being around the slaves. It gave the teen a following that would look upon him the same way he did to his superiors.

 

While it wasn’t the healthiest of relationships, the kids all did get along fairly well. Some of the kids were already Enhanced, sporting embedded electronics and kept away from their families during the week for training for the Rings - one of the more hidden business ventures Viastone participated in. The Rings, owned by a group calling themselves the Ten Rings, were a traveling fighting competition. Slave owners could train individuals for the rings, bet on one another’s fighters, and walk away with either more slaves or a lot of money.

 

Anything was fair game in the Rings.

 

They even had a program where you could loan or co-own a slave with a member of the Ten Rings, which usually resulted in a boost to your fighter’s winnings as they would be carted to other competitions. This is where the majority of Viastone’s Enhanced ended up - if you weren’t used to test their biomedicine or embedded technologies, you were used as a gambling chip in the Rings until you were bought, earned enough to become a glorified pack dog on the compound, or died as a result of a bad match.

 

Oddly enough, it had turned into a bit of a revered position for most of the slave kids. Especially since the families they fought for seemed to get better treatment when they won more matches.

 

“Tones! Rhodes! ‘Bout time you two showed up!”

 

“Come on, Ty - mom just went to bed! We came as soon as we could..”

 

“Don’t worry, Tony. He’s just bein’ an ass.” said one of the older kids, a young woman called Rogue. No one knew her real name, and she gave a different one every time someone asked.

 

Ty just laughed, winking at Rhodey and rubbing Tony’s head. This just caused the boy to squawk and reach up to cover his hair with his hands, pouting something fierce. “Let’s go! We’ve got a real good one, tonight~! We do this right? We’ll make off with enough toys to keep you more than happy, Tony~ You can finally finish that computer pal’ of yours!”

 

Tony pouted more, reaching into his pocket to hold the block he had in it. It was a piece of JARVIS, the AI he had spent the last year slowly working on. Once the group had heard what he was up to they had volunteered to help get him the parts he needed to make it a more compact system, though not quite out the goodness of their hearts. They were doing it for fun. It was a specific kind of challenge to gather intel, create infiltration plans, sneak past any and all guard systems, and sneak off with bits of tech. While Ty could theoretically just take it and write it off as a lost piece of hardware later, this challenge was much more fun for the teen.

 

It wasn’t as if he would really get in any trouble if he got caught.

 

While Rhodey didn’t necessarily think any of this was a great idea, he did love the challenge the older kids were giving them. It was like the world’s greatest game of hide-and-seek!

 

After they had made their plans on a small map Ty projected, the group was off. In the corner of the courtyard there was a lattice, used mostly for decoration and sometimes for growing beans or peas. Rogue winked at her boyfriend - another fifteen year old boy by the name of Bobby - before quickly scaling the lattice, dropping down on the other side of the tall wall to open the gate doors. They could hear the Hounds getting restless in the corner, causing Ty to give the group a toothy grin.

 

“Who’s turn is it to feed the buggers?” That raised several groans - no one liked going near the creepy things. So, since they were all mature adults-to-be, they decided in the only way they figured was fair - rock, paper, scissors. Ty had hidden a bucket of drugged meat around the corner, so distracting the mutts wasn’t actually that hard. The ‘chosen’ only had to carry the bucket to the enclosure, dump the meat in the chute, and take the bucket back to the hiding spot.

 

After the winner had been decided Ty and Bobby lead the way down the hall, calling Rhodey to help them with some scouting - they had discovered he was pretty quick on his feet, making him a great candidate for the task. Before Tony could follow after the rest of the group though, the boy that had lost grabbed his shoulder, grinning at him.

 

“Hey! You haven’t gotten to participate yet, right..?”

 

“N-no.. Rhodey says I gotta’ wait ‘till I’m a bit older ‘cause the bucket is so big..”

 

“Naah, why’d you listen to _that_ crap? Ten is plenty old, and you look strong enough to me! Tell you what - I’ll make you a deal, small-fry!” Tony frowned up at him, not sure what he was getting at or why he was bothering to listen. Ty had always stressed that no one was supposed to hand off jobs after they had been divided - usually by rock, paper, scissors. He said it had something to do with a code-of-honor, but Tony wasn’t really sure what that had to do with jobs. “How about.. You do this, show me how awesome you are at it, and I’ll put in an extra good word for you! Make sure the others start taking you seriously~!”

 

“Uhm..”

 

“I’ll even throw in a special treat~! Check it out - nicked it from the kitchens the other night!”

 

Tony’s eyes went wide when he saw the small bag of star-shaped candy. Pepper would go nuts if he brought that home..!! After less than a few seconds of thought he eagerly nodded, the ten-year-old grinning and running to the corner where he knew the bucket was hidden. It was a lot heavier than he thought it would be. He took a deep breath and lifted the large container, wrapping his small arms around the stinking meat and walking a little over ten feet before he had to set it down to breathe.

 

The older kid stood by the hiding spot, watching Tony slowly take the bucket around a corner and vanish from his view. Perfect - he hated those damn things, no way was he doing feeding duty three nights in a row!

 

Tony took a few minutes for him to get to the enclosure, as the bucket weighed more than anything he had yet to carry. It wasn’t until he was standing a few feet from the enclosure, the sounds of snuffling and scratching starting to stir in the darkness, that Tony started to truly regret the deal. He took a shaky breath as he stood before the first set of gates, putting the bucket down and looking for something to stand on. When nothing eventually presented itself he sighed and carefully fit his foot through a loop of the chain-link fence, climbing up a foot so he could reach the latch.

 

The enclosure had three security fences - one that was controlled by the guards when they needed to clean the enclosure, locking each of the Hounds in their huts. The other two were fences that separated the enclosure from the courtyard, with a path between the two of them that had a chute to feed the creatures at the same time. The one he had just passed through was the one that made Tony feel safe - it was twice the height of the first one, as he’d seen one of the creatures jump higher obstacles than the second fence before.

 

He crept toward the feeding chute, growing more and more nervous by the second as the growling started. They smelled their treat - and were getting impatient.

 

When Tony finally reached his destination he was shaking, the boy taking a few deep breaths before trying to lift the bucket over his head, yelping as he dropped it. That started a whole new set of growls, the boy quickly scrambling about to grab some of the meat and throw it over the top of the fence, eventually picking up the much lighter bucket and dumping the rest into the chute. He bolted for the gate after that, spurred on by the sounds of crunching, tearing, and slurping. The second he was outside he turned the bucket over, jumping up onto it to reach the latch to the gate and pushing it down as fast as possible.

 

The sound of a nearby growel spooked him, causing him to fall off the bucket with a quiet yelp. He barely remembered to grab it before turning and running again, bolting for the hiding spot and shaking from head to toe when he saw the older boy. The kid just laughed, putting his hands on Tony’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug to help calm him down.

 

“Hey! You did it! That’s it, breathe - calm down and breathe with me, buddy! See..? I told you, no problem! You locked the gate, right?” Tony nodded, still shaking as he struggled to catch his breath, wiping his hands on his pant legs and clinging to the comfort the older boy was offering. “You’re all good! Here, as promised - your candy prize~! Tuck it in tight, don’t want to lose it on our run. I can’t tell Ty in front of the others, so try to calm down as much as you can while we catch up and I’ll make sure I talk to him later, ok?”

 

“Wh.. Wh.. Y..?”

 

“Why can’t I tell?” Tony nodded. “We aren’t supposed to hand off jobs, remember? That doesn’t mean we don’t give tests to the newer kids, to see if they are ready. You gotta’ keep it secret though, so don’t even tell Rhodey! He had to do this too, so don’t sweat it kiddo. It’s something we all gotta’ go through!”

 

The boy just nodded again, following behind him as they hurried to catch up to the others. By time they turned the corner they would be far enough away to not be able to hear the outer gate being pushed open by a hungry Hound, the creature sniffing around for more of the sweet meat that it was unable to get to. Some had hopped the second fence to get at the spilled treats, leaving nothing for those that were out of reach. Only half of the Hounds had gotten their drugged meal.

 

When the boys had finally caught up with the others Ty was scowling, his arms crossed. “The hell took you so long!?”

 

“Sorry! Went slow to explain how to feed them! Tony wanted to know how it worked!” Ty gave them a skeptical look but nodded after a moment of thought, the group turning to continue their advance. It was slow going to get to the labs, taking the group of kids a full twenty minutes to sneak and slip through the halls. The doors to the labs were a technological wonder, with a changing lock system that updated twice a day to a random code only the lab techs should have access to.

 

It wasn’t that hard to figure it out, when you had Ty’s kind of access.

 

Tony watched as Ty pressed on his watch, opening a holographic screen for him to start scrolling through codes and emails. One of the techs would have it, and all Ty had to do was keep checking to see which one got the email with the last update. Tony quickly got tired of waiting, especially since he knew JARVIS was ready.

 

The boy crept toward the door while the others were busy securing the perimeter, Rhodey grinning at his brother as soon as he figured out what was up. Tony didn’t have enough parts to make a wireless connector for JARVIS yet, that was one of the pieces he was searching for tonight, but he did have a wire to connect his pocket-JARVIS to the wall panel. Within the few seconds it took for the others to clue in and try to get to him, the lock had clicked open and the door had opened up with a soft swooshing sound. He gave the others a wide, prideful grin before crouching down and sneaking into the room on his knees.

 

Ty and Rhodey just grinned at him and followed.

 

Despite earlier concerns, there wasn’t actually anyone working in the labs this time of night. The last evening shift always left before ten, and the night shift never bothered showing up until at least midnight since their projects could be started remotely. Tony went straight for the supply cabinet as a few of the others searched for their own goodies, Bobby keeping an eye on the door and the hall. The first things Tony grabbed were a pair of wireless chips, a hard drive extention chip, and a few scrap circuit boards. At least the boards and the old metals wouldn’t be missed from the scrap bit. What was harder to find was a smaller casing that he could use.

 

Tony could, theoretically, make one from scratch and hope he could make it shock absorbent enough to protect his hardware, but he’d really rather just grab a premade case. He was just finishing tucking away the pieces under his jacket when he heard Bobby whisper into the room.

 

“Someone’s coming!”

 

In that instant everyone gathered back together, tucking away their loot and climbing into their hiding spots as Bobby closed the door, Rogue hiding herself in a hall vent to play lookout while Bobby waited in the hall. The guard rounded the corner, narrowing its eyes at the young male before recognition crossed its face. It smirked and patted Bobby’s head as it passed, the creature’s voice scratching its way through the hall in its amusement.

 

“The good Dr. Jarr has you again tonight, does he? He does enjoy the young slaves.. Keep your limbs, boy. He won’t grow bored of you, then.”

 

Bobby clenched his fists but nodded, keeping himself silent and visually obedient as he waited for it to pass. As soon as it was clear Rogue dropped out of the vent to pull him into a hug, waiting for another few moments for him to calm down. He put his brave face back on when it was time to open the door, the group slowly emerging from the labs before heading out.

 

It was then that they heard the excitement in the outer rings.

 

Ty frowned as he moved to a window to glance outside, his eyes widening when he saw several guards talking and others bringing out several leashed Hounds.

 

“Someone figured out something’s up! Bobby - you and Rogue lead your group through route B. I’ll take route C, and Max, you go through E. Get back to the courtyards and to your homes - don’t wait to see the group! Meetup tomorrow for breakfast under the mangrove tree! Go!”

 

Just like that the group split into three, Tony and Rhodey following Max - the boy that had used Tony earlier - to a split further down the hall to take another route back home. Tony tried hard to keep up to the others, his smaller legs working hard to keep up. It wasn’t until he had heard Max shout ‘SCATTER’ that he had truly started to panic, turning the wrong way and running further into the hall.  
Max was at his side in an instant, to try to propel him toward a better route, when they were suddenly face to face with a pair of Hounds. The older boy didn’t get the chance to defend himself as one jumped forward, latching its great maw around his throat and clamping down hard. Tony’s eyes went wide as he jumped back to avoid the spray, his heart jumping into his throat when he heard another feral growl beside him.

 

The hound’s eyes were lit with the kind of fire that comes from years of being used to hunt runaways, boring into Tony’s soul to tell him that _no, to me you are nothing more than my next meal_. It jumped and Tony’s breath caught in his throat, raising his arm up and crying out as its teeth sunk into his arm. Because of the angle they were at the creature had to let go, quickly scrambling so it could go after the boy again and catching Tony on the leg with its claws in its hurry.

 

He heard someone scream his name, but he didn’t register it as he grabbed the closest object he could off a table and brought it down on the mutt’s head. Tony didn’t fight the hand that grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the window, bravely climbing out with Rhodey and holding his hurt arm close while trying to slide after his brother along the ledge.

 

They almost made it.

 

Rhodey was further ahead. All he could do was listen and watch as a Hound shattered the glass of a window they were passing, forcing Tony off the edge. He couldn’t describe the feeling that was watching a person fall - both too fast and too slow, knowing that time didn’t stop because it was someone you cared about, but still feeling like the inevitable took a day and an age to reach. He didn’t bother to fight back as a hand grabbed at him, yanking him inside while all he could focus on was the twisted form below, inches from a spiked fence.

 

Pain.. Tony’s world was filled with nothing, nothing but pain..

 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t see, hear, or smell.

 

Just feel.

 

The boy sobbed as he returned to consciousness, instantly wishing that he hadn’t as his leg and his arm seared against his body. He could feel his bicep burning from the corrosive bite the Hound had given him, and he didn’t have to look at his leg to know that it was bent in ways that a human body was never meant to bend. All he could do now though was wait. Wait, hope that everything would be ok, and hope that their mother and sister wouldn’t be punished for what they did.

 

He just had to hope. And breathe. And breathe some more. Tony slowly tried to open his eyes, blinking through the tears that obstructed his vision and looked around him. No one was on the ledge, and no one was around him. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for the boy to wish that he hadn’t opened his eyes. To wish that he didn’t try to move, or again that he didn’t even wake up.

 

Three inches from his face, something that he recognized with ease, was the lower half of an arm.

 

And then, Tony screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not make it online on Monday or the weekend to post this, so it is going up super early. Next chapter goes back to the main storyline! Might do more of baby Tony later. haven't decided yet.
> 
> Cheers, and Happy Halloween!


	12. ..Two of a Kind

Bucky knew he was being watched, just like he knew something was off about the kid he was staying with. He didn’t really have time to explore these thoughts, though.

 

The next two days kept the soldier on his toes, Tony dragging him around - usually without shoes, which made his eye twitch in some kind of over-protective irritation - the colony to give him ‘a better feel’ for the place. Finding jobs didn’t end up being that hard, either. Tony wasn’t able to get to Clint’s aids during that time because of the reactor trouble they were having - which was fine, since the man was still imitating a log.

 

Helping Tony around the shop was also a good distraction.

 

Bucky learned a bit more about Tony as well. Especially when he started watching him move. There was something.. Off, about the way he carried himself. Nevermind the fact that he seemed to always wear some ratty sweater, despite any possible flame or heat sources he was around, or that he had a strange hate of wearing shoes or socks. He also discovered that there was a small earbud attachment to his half-visor, which was how he communicated with JARVIS, and also how Bucky knew he was being watched.

 

If he focused enough he could hear sound coming from the earbud whenever he entered the room, and again if he wandered too close behind Tony when his back was turned.

 

Then again, considering how much the kid seemed to have lost, he could also just be super paranoid.

 

Beyond confusion that surrounded the enigma that was his host, Bucky was still baffled by his arm. He hadn’t managed to properly thank him though, and not from lack of trying - the damn kid just seemed completely uninterested in hearing any kind of gratitude! With that in mind, and with JARVIS’ help - mostly because there would be no surprising him if the AI told Tony what he was doing - he formulated a plan of attack. If Tony wasn’t going to take his words, then he would show his gratitude through his actions.

 

It started with food. Bucky was making sandwiches for himself, and it only took a couple questions about Tony’s preferences to get JARVIS on board with him feeding the kid. 

Within the first three days of them being around one another, they had settled into somewhat of a routine. Bucky would go to bed before Tony but after helping with dishes, and somehow manage to wake up after Tony was already back to work. After day two JARVIS admitted that Tony didn’t sleep much, so that answered that question fairly quick. Bucky would then fix some breakfast and take it to the teen, who would eat while terrifying Bucky by dancing around something hot and dangerous, before pushing Tony to the bathroom to clean up. After a quick trip to the small hospital to check on Clint’s status, the pair would spend a few hours walking, talking to the locals, and doing small jobs here and there to get a few extra credits or household items. Tony always seemed to have something planned for them for lunch, and there was a few hours each day where he would vanish to work on the reactor after setting Bucky up with a job, but they always got together again for dinner at Tony’s. The night then finished with Bucky listening in on the ‘nesting tale’ - Tony was covering for a couple of the adults - while washing dishes, and then it was time for bed.

 

Compared to the rest of his current lifestyle, he couldn’t have felt more domesticated.

 

It wasn’t much of a surprise then that Clint would be the one to throw off the routine after five days of sleeping.

 

Tony grinned as he jogged through the market, searching for the soldier and pausing when he finally found him. He was a teenager, and he had no problem admitting that his body was growing and discovering different levels of attraction that didn’t always listen to, or align with, his brain. It was perfectly, totally, completely natural! He had known he liked guys for a few years now, anyway. Which is why he told himself not to feel weird about thinking that Bucky, the not-so-trustworthy-by-omission soldier he was babysitting, was a walking adonis with an attractive, finally-upgraded prosthetic.

 

Bucky was hot.

 

However, that wasn’t enough to make the wary teenager throw out the last of his survival instincts to try to seduce the guy. At the same time, it didn’t make it any easier to see Bucky carrying large bins with his hair tied back, arm muscles working hard and glistening from the effort he had been exerting for the last few hours. Tony gave himself the small pleasure of watching him from afar for a moment, letting Bucky finish transferring his latest load before calling out to him.

 

“You know, you’re going to make people blush walking around like that.”

 

Bucky laughed and reached up to wipe his forehead, smirking at the teen. Okay, so maybe his attraction wasn’t as well hidden as he thought it was. Neither was Bucky’s lack of interest.

 

“Let ‘em blush. Nothin’ wrong with raisin’ your body temperature a bit.”

 

“I dunno, Miss Cho might have a few things to say about body temperature. Speaking of - she just called me! Your friend woke up and has apparently been causing hell. Do you want to- ok, I’ll just follow you then, shall I?”

 

Bucky didn’t give him a chance to finish. His mind had started shutting down the second he had heard him say Clint was awake, calling to the vendor he was helping before heading off in the direction of the hospital. He didn’t run, but Tony still had to work to keep up with him. He heard more than saw the ruckus Clint was making when they arrived, seeing a few turned chairs in the hall and the curtains ripped off of a couple doorways.

 

There was Clint’s yelling he could follow, too.

 

“Th’ hell‘m I?!”

 

Sounded like he was still pretty out of it, then again he had seen him running around the ship a few hours after being electrocuted and shot.

 

“Sir, please! Calm down! You’re safe, you are still recovering from a list of injuries-”

 

“And almost dying!”

 

“-AND almost dying, so please calm down!”

 

“TH’ HELL’M I!?”

 

Bucky sighed as he entered the room, which looked like it had been destroyed by Clint’s panic, and waited until he caught his attention before speaking slowly. “Birdbrain, time to nest.”

 

“‘Uck..?”

 

He quickly crossed the room to catch Clint, the man quickly losing energy when he saw Bucky unrestrained and looking relaxed. He heard Tony and the other three staying by the door so they wouldn’t freak Clint out more, which he was thankful for. “Yeah, I’m here. You shouldn’t be up, idiot.. Y’almost died on me.. We’re safe - got picked up by a colony.” Clint wrapped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder as the man pulled him into his arms, carrying him back to the room he was originally in.

 

“Gunna’ put ya back t’bed now. Stay in it. Listen to the kids - they know what they’re doin’ - and the same with the lady. You can trust ‘em. We’re safe. Need ya t’get better an’ stop scarin’ them.”

 

Clint grunted, feeling a slight jolt of guilt behind his exhaustion as he was laid back on the bed in his room. Cho entered the room with some water after that, Bucky helping to hold him in a sitting position to make it easier on them both. She then followed Bucky’s example of talking slowly and making sure he could see her face. “Mister Clint..? I’m Helen Cho, and the children are Bruce, Toni and Anthony. There’s another doctor here named Yinsen. You’re in a hospital, at the Wei Novus drifter colony, and you are safe. You and your friend came here in poor shape and you have been sleeping for nearly a week. Your hearing aids have been damaged, and our technician will fix them if you can help him eject them. Then you can sleep more. Does that sound acceptable?”

 

Clint slowly nodded, not bothering with talking and focusing on slowly drinking the water instead. Really, if Bucky was this relaxed around them then they couldn’t be that bad. Right?

 

This changed a bit when he saw Tony step forward, his brows furrowing with confusion.

 

He wouldn’t hear Bucky’s chuckle, but he did look to him for answers. “Kid fixed my arm, better than Astor ever got it, all on his own. Your aids will be a breeze.” Tony smiled and nodded when he stopped beside them, his eyes lingering on the way Bucky’s fingers gently brushed over Clint’s arm.

 

“So long as the connectors aren’t fried it should be pretty-” Clint chuckled tiredly, waving his hand to stop him from talking for a moment.

 

“Sl.. ‘Ow dow’ kid..”

 

Tony blinked once, twice, then his eyes widened and he gave him a quick nod. “Sorry.. Basically, if everything goes well? And nothing is fried? It should be fixed by the morning. I can’t build you a new set unless I know more about the whole upgrade, but I can probably repair yours and run a diagnostic scan on them. Fix any bugs the storm might have caused in the software. Sound good?”

Clint smirked, and Bucky found it funny that Tony wasn’t bristling at being called a kid again. Small miracles. Or maybe he was unraveled from seeing Clint running around yelling? He didn’t know, but it was weird seeing him be quiet.

 

“S’good t’me, kid..” Clint gave him a winning smile - as much as he could manage in his condition - and reached up to cup his ears. Tony’s eyes tracked Clint’s fingers, following each tap until he pulled away to show the extensions in his palms. Tony couldn’t help himself at this point.

 

He jumped forward and leaned close to examine them, humming softly while he picked them up. “What the hell - these were in you?! Talk about outdated! Hey, let me - oh geeze, THAT’S where they go in?!” Clint had been about to panic from Tony getting so close so fast, but the next sentence made him calm down. Especially since Tony went back to talking slow so he could see his mouth move. “Is the rest of the upgrade changeable? That is so bulky it can’t be comfortable!”

 

“Uhh..”

 

Bucky laughed. “Don’t overwhelm him, kid. Some of it is switchable, but the next upgrade is still at least six months out of our reach.” He gently brushed his fingers through Clint’s hair, looking at the port that was built into his friend’s skull behind his ears. “Can you fix it?”

 

Tony watched Bucky’s fingers again, paying attention to the way they worked at his scalp. How long had those two been together..? No wonder Bucky wasn’t interested - not that he’d been flirting that obviously. “Yeah, I can fix it.. Deeper implants are harder to get to, but I think I can write something to fix any extra bugs that might be in there. Clint - how do you feel about running a diagnostic on the rest of the gear? My AI can do it, and I have a connector the same type.”

 

Clint tried to follow the conversation but the exhaustion was starting to creep up on him again. When the kid spoke he had almost passed out again! So he just nodded with a slow smile, giving him a thumbs-up. “S’good, kid.. Jus’.. No pranks..”

 

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head to Tony’s raised eyebrow, moving to grab a chair. “Long story. Last mechanic, an old bud of ours? Switched out some code so he’d hear some dumb tune at random-ass times. An old canned food commercial, I think.. Anyway, got ‘em for months.”

 

“Ha - awesome. Well, no pranks from me! Not when it comes to that. If I want to prank you, I’ll do it _outside_ of body modifications. Heh.. Looks like Clint’s gunna’ sleep.. You staying here?” He smiled slightly at Bucky’s nod, moving to grab some more water for him. “Alright.. I’ll let Lynn know - you were moving stuff for her today, right..? I’ll uhh, see you later.”

 

Tony fled the room before he could reply, the soldier taking a moment to watch him leave before sitting beside his friend. He didn’t know why it stung seeing the two of them be that.. Close. It made sense - they were friends, coworkers, and apparently lovers! Tony had known Bucky for what, a few days? The teen sighed as he walked back toward his workshop, reaching under his shirt collar to rub at his shoulder, rubbing at the carefully disguised synthetic skin that was there.

 

There should be no reason he felt anything for a hot stranger, certainly not because they were alike…

~ * ~

When Maria had woken up to an empty house that morning she didn’t think too much of it. It was fairly normal for the boys to sneak out early to play, and when her neighbor - Ellie - poked her head in to ask about the boys she had relaxed even more. She didn’t care for the boy Max too much, but the kids needed to be around other children. All of them did.

 

Besides, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t grow as well. It was something all kids had to do eventually.  
Getting ready for the day’s work was fairly simple as well, what with the boys both gone. She trusted James to get Anthony to work on time, and she didn’t have to worry about getting them food in the morning either. The mothers all took turns making breakfast for the kids in the morning, so Bobby would be bringing food to the kids that morning. Even if he wasn’t used as a cleaning boy anymore he still helped the other kids out as often as his training schedule allowed.

 

Virginia was a little squirmy today though, admittedly. The girl didn’t feel good, and kept mentioning a bad feeling in her stomach. All Maria could really do though was provide her with some tea before they had to leave.

 

By time the evening came Maria was starting to get concerned. There was still no word from the boys. Sometimes they were kept late to work on extra odds and ends, but that was only a necessity during tournaments or galas. As far as she knew there were no visiting emissaries, no fights, and no social gatherings coming up.

 

Ellie was even more concerned, and when dinner hour came and went both mothers were huddled in Maria’s living room over tea. Virginia had finally went to bed, the girl peacefully wrapped into Maria’s blankets and pillows.

 

“I just don’t know what’s keeping them! Max hasn’t shown any talents, and the other children have all returned..! Anthony and James aren’t old enough to present, either!”

 

“Hush, Ellie.. Virginia is asleep… We have no reason to assume that they were taken. They could just be.. Held back. It.. It happens, sometimes.. You heard about little Bobbie, right?”

 

“Y-yes, but - Maria! They are so young! You really don’t think they would attract-”

 

“I hope not! Of - of course, I hope not.. But even that is better than assuming.. We can.. We can deal with that, help them recover, but we can’t do anything if they aren’t alive..” Ellie nodded, Maria reaching forward to cover her hands. With the warmth of the cup on one side and Maria’s hands on the other, Ellie eventually stopped shaking.

 

Neither mother got any sleep that night.

~ * ~

Virginia was asking questions the next day. The three boys were still missing, and none of the other children were talking. Though, Bobbie did say that he hadn’t seen them around the labs after hours. Nor had he seen them at work.

 

Maria was trying to stay strong for Ellie, trying - desperately - not to panic in front of Virginia. None of the other parents had seen or heard from the missing children, and everyone knew asking about them wouldn’t work.

 

If your children had been ‘chosen’, you would be lucky to hear from them in rumor.

 

The ‘servants’ weren’t privy to that kind of knowledge.

 

This didn’t stop either woman from trying to find their children. Ellie had been invited to sleep at Maria’s, though both of them were much too wound for them to get any real kind of rest.

~ * ~

They brought Max’s body on the third day. Maria wasn’t able to stop Virginia from seeing it, and swelled with pride when she tried her best to help comfort Ellie.

 

No child should have to see that, but it was still good to see her caring about others.

 

Thankfully the older couple that lived by them came to take Virginia for the evening, Maria helping the mourning mother. Ellie didn’t have any other family, not since her husband died in the rings.

 

When Virginia returned home late that evening, the three of them slept cuddled in the small livingroom with some of Ellie’s blankets and pillows moved in.

~ * ~

A week in, and nothing.

 

Maria was starting to fray. She knew she was, no matter how strong she tried to be for the other two. She took comfort from the fact that no bodies had turned up, but really that could mean anything. She knew the scientists could get.. Excited, when given unaltered subjects to work with.

 

She knew they could be in cells, or jars, or in a hole in the ground. They could be sectioned off and fed to the hounds, or taken and sold to some high-class clan member as a pet or a slave.

 

Really, just trying to focus on them not being dead was the only thing that was allowing her to sleep now.

 

Ellie and Maria had cleared out the woman’s old home, trading their huts for a slightly larger space with an elderly couple. The guards didn’t care what the slaves did with the living arrangements so long as they updated the registry the same day, making moving a lot of work. Even when one didn’t have many items to move. The women, and the elderly couple, worked so hard that it was easy that night for Maria and Ellie to fall asleep. Virginia tried to help, though she - like all young children - only made the process longer for the parents.

 

Thus, after their cleaning shift and the continued cleaning and moving the next day, the mothers would receive two good nights of sleep in that week.

~ * ~

Maria felt broken.

 

Three weeks. The boys had been gone for three weeks, and not a word had been spoken to her about them. Bobby had kept an eye out in the labs and in the rings, but after a bad match he ended up stuck in the recovery wing by the science district. She hadn’t seen that blonde boy - Ty - since the boys had disappeared, and young Marie had quietly spoken to her about what had happened. At least, what Marie had seen out of it.

 

Maria knew about the games. The stupid, stupid club the ring kids had. She hadn’t spoken to Marie for a week when she told her the truth, but the girl had kept coming around, kept trying to help the grieving mothers as much as she could after her training shifts.

 

She knew she wasn’t going to be forgiven, though Maria knew she wouldn’t stay mad at the girl for long. Marie was just focused on trying to help. She felt responsible - both her and Bobby did - for Max’s death, and for Anthony and James’ disappearance.

 

Especially since all she could tell them about is meeting with the other kids, the trip to the labs to get parts for Anthony’s computer, and the guards causing them to scatter.

 

Maria’s heart was breaking, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

~ * ~

A month and a half came and went since the night the boys disappeared, Virginia was Maria’s only focus now.

 

Both Maria and Ellie had dedicated their care to the girl and her education, and to honoring the memories of the three boys. She had to. There was nothing left, otherwise..

 

Her babies were gone.

~ * ~

She ran the moment they told her, the moment a guard came to the Glass Union and told her she was to report to the Science District, E-labs.

 

Maria didn’t want to think of what that meant. All she wanted to think about was that, after three months, at least one of her boys was alive. At least one of them was being returned to her. It didn’t matter that the Glass Union and Science District were a half hour walk apart - running as fast as she could she managed to make it in half the time. Out of breath, terrified, and frantic in her search for her boys.

 

Nothing would have prepared her for what she walked into.

 

Viastone was a giant, complex mix of subsets under the banner of cybernetics and weapons development. The true money, especially with their experiments, was made in the black market combination of cybernetic enhancements and biomedical alterations.

 

That was what the E-labs were dedicated to. During AIM’s fall against Earth’s United Nation, Viastone had gathered several of the lead developers under the promise of safety and life-long security, so long as they were willing to continue their work. In the last eighty years alone they had, with Viastone’s aid and supervision, developed twenty six different strains of the Extremis Virus, all with different qualities and applications. There was still no way for them to predict how a host would adapt to any particular strain, but the success rate had been more than a twelve hundred percent increase since the volatile A-strain, the Alpha strain and original formula, had been developed back on Earth.

 

It was nasty, it was still risky, and it was still considered illegal genetic modification across the galaxy.

 

Maria had met with a scientist, who was apparently excited and under the impression that she should be proud of her children. She didn’t add to his excitement, content to let him ramble away as she gripped at her shirt and followed him to the single unit containment and observation room. He let her onto the deck and left, moving down to the main level so he could wake the children.

 

One step, a deep breath, and a tight grip on her shirt sleeve. Then another step, and another breath. A few more and she felt the water at the corners of her eyes fall down her face, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth.

 

Cords connected to the ceiling and drifted down the walls to small tanks, each big enough to hold a single adult on a restraining bed. The bed, covered in straps and buckles, was attached to a set of rollers that allowed the bed to slide in and out of the tube, and all along the exterior of the container were large canisters - canisters she knew contained retractable needles that connected to the chemical feed from the ceiling tubes. The virus had a long enough half-life that the scientists didn’t worry about the length of time it would wait in the tubes between test subjects.

 

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Not for Maria.

 

Oxygen masks were secured around each of the boys’ faces, the boys still asleep as the doctor set about searching for a pair of needles with a few ccs of adrenalin to wake them. She wanted to focus on their faces, she really did, because if she focused on their faces she could just make out their chests slowly moving up and down. Unfortunately though, Anthony’s arm was beside his chest - a plain, striking endoskeleton meant to be covered in a special synthetic skin to hide it’s appearance.

 

That lead her eyes further down, past the straps and the injuries that would surely become scars for the boys, to each of their legs. Or rather, Anthony’s one leg. The other, from the calf down, was another endoskeleton. But her James - her poor, sweet James - had the same gear from the calf down on both legs. She could see bandages around James’ shoulder, but she couldn’t see any other devices.

 

Not that it was any comfort.

 

Both her babies, her sweet boys, had lost a pair of limbs. Both of them had become Enhanced. Both of them were now considered E-lab, U-strain Ring trainees.

 

“Oh, miei bambini-!”

~ * ~

Tony yawned, righting an involuntary shiver down his spine and tugging another sweater on. The reactor room was cold - rather, the air in the room was kept as cold as they could get it without compromising the station’s temperature regulation. The reactors themselves were hot, which is why they needed to pump so much cold into the rooms. A lot of the repairs Tony had to do put him close to the reactors, but since he had to work on this particular core while it was powered down?

 

This was about the only time he was missing wearing shoes.

 

He had left the hospital.. He didn’t even know how long ago. After taking the hearing aids back to his workshop and setting them up for a diagnostic scan. He needed to know just how bad the damage was to the software, though from first glance he figured he would have to try to replace most of it.

 

Regardless it wasn’t something he felt like working on.

 

So Tony had set up the scans and left, retreating to lick his crushed-crush-wounds. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was so attached to the guy. Bucky was a complete stranger - could be a damn sociopath for all he knew - and there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to be this attached! Nevermind that there really wasn’t much, if anything, in common between them. As far as he knew.

 

Really though, try telling that to your heart.

~ * ~

Bucky spent the rest of the day beside Clint, not wanting to leave his friend for any length of time. Eventually one of the kids took pity on him and brought some food, Clint happily ignoring his friend in favor of eating as much as he could stomach. He spent the day signing to Clint, telling him everything he had learned about the colony and its inhabitants, as well as the small jobs he did during the day.

 

Clint had smacked him for skipping work to run to his side, but the smile on his face made up for the slight sting. Besides, he knew Clint wasn’t really upset at all.

 

By time the soldier left it was nearing the morning of the next day, needing to get back to Tony’s so he could change. Bucky was exhausted, having stayed up all night, but he was still ready to work for the day.

 

He pushed the curtain aside and stifled another yawn behind his hand, stretching on his way upstairs. “Hey, JARVIS? Has Tony eaten yet?”

 

_”Sir has not eaten yet. He prepped the diagnostic scan yesterday then returned to work on the reactor cores.”_

 

He frowned, sparing a glance to one of the small sensors on the wall before continuing on to the kitchen. “Kid worked all night? No rest?”

 

 _”A habit of his, I’m afraid.”_ How the hell did an AI manage to sound disappointed?! _”Though, if Mister Bucky is willing, I would greatly appreciate it if you aided him. He is vastly underdressed for his current environment, and I am concerned that his body is running low on fuel, so to speak.”_

 

Bucky snorted and shook his head, making a pair of sandwiches for the both of them. It was a bit bigger than Tony would probably normally eat, but if the kid had been working since yesterday? No damn way was he letting him have something small. After wrapping Tony’s in a bag he left, eating his along the way.

 

The reactor room wasn’t hard to find, especially since all he had to do was explain he was looking for Tony for people to tell him where to go. He didn’t know how long the kid was stuck in there, but obviously it was long enough for other people to approve of Bucky trying to find him.

 

Quite honestly though, he wasn’t expecting it to be so damn cold when he opened the door.

 

Bucky shivered and shut his eyes tight, gripping the door handle in his flesh hand in an effort to keep himself calm. After a few moments, when he managed to quiet the screaming in his mind, he stepped forward. All this time and he still couldn’t handle the cold..

 

The reactors on the station were stored in several different sections, each room designed to house ten cores with plenty of room for parts and equipment to pass between each core, and each room far enough away from the other so that one malfunction couldn’t affect another. It also helped to balance the power network a bit.

 

Unfortunately for him though, The reactor core Tony was working on was all the way in the back. He shivered as he tried to keep memories of snow and cryotubes out of his mind, eventually reaching the back of the rooms. What he saw though made him curse.

 

“Tony! The fuck are y’doin’ without shoes in this place?! Y’outa’ your god damned mind?!”

 

Tony had yelped and started to protest, but Bucky didn’t bother listening. He rushed forward and picked him up, glancing over the parts to make sure nothing was moving before running out of the cold room. He continued to ignore Tony’s protests and squirming, tossing the kid over his shoulder and searching for a blanket. The second he found one he sat Tony down and wrapped him up tight, kneeling in front of the kid and reaching out to rub his legs down.

 

That was when he felt it.

 

Bucky’s eyes widened a bit and he frowned, his jaw clenching slightly as he surged forward to give the kid’s flesh leg more attention than the other. “Wanna’ lose your other damn leg? Shit, Tony! Th’hell were y’thinkin’?!”

 

Tony had tensed up the second Bucky had touched his leg, staring down at it and watching Bucky work at rubbing warmth back into his right limb. “I was thinking I hate shoes..? None of them fit right, here.. Just ends up.. Slipping and sliding around and being a general pain in the ass..”

Bucky sighed and continued working, his brow furrowed the whole time. What the hell had happened to this kid..?! He was fifteen, apparently had a cybernetic leg, had his own AI that he developed when he was even damn younger, and lives on his own in the middle of nowhere as a colony’s lead mechanic! The process of slowly warming him up had allowed the soldier to calm down more, though he was still worried about his skin.

 

“Y’know.. Freezin’ metal jus’ hurts the connection point that much more..”

 

“It’s not like it’s completely exposed.. Not nearly as bad as yours! The skin? It’s more insulative than both my sweaters and my shirt.. The material it’s made out of? Something in it works awesome to keep the internal temperature regular. And - and, really? I was moving around a lot! And was decently close to another core, so it’s not like I was in nothing but cold for more than a couple of minutes!”

 

“Bullshit, kid - JARVIS told me y’didn’t go home last night! You’ve been workin’ all damn night!”

 

Tony winced and looked away, muttering a half-baked plan to turn JARVIS into a toaster regulator - which Bucky knew wouldn’t happen. The man sighed softly and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before reaching down for Tony’s flesh foot, carefully examining it for any signs of frostbite.

 

“.. You’re lucky.. Foot maybe has first degree.. Get ya some socks an’ keep ‘em warm, it’ll be fine..” He sighed softly and kept working, rubbing around Tony’s knee and thigh. The kid was refusing to look at him and his cheeks were flushed - did he have frostbite on his face too? Would make sense, since he wasn’t wearing any damn protective gear. “How much do y’got..?”

 

Tony tensed up again, mulling over the information in his head to decide if he should tell Bucky or not. Eventually he sighed, raising his arm. “Left leg.. Up to the mid calf.. Whole right arm, most of the shoulder.. A couple other things, but the rest of my limbs are mine..”

 

“Christ, kid..” Bucky slowly stopped and looked up at Tony, the teenager staring at him with a defiant look in his eyes. Either he didn’t think Bucky could do anything with the information, or he figured he could take Bucky. Considering how much of this kid wasn’t apparently human? Bucky was sure he’d give him a good damn run for his money.

 

Hell, if it weren’t for the years of training under his belt, and the serum? The kid would have the advantage.

 

The soldier gently took Tony’s right hand, pushing the sleeves up a bit so he could gently feel the synthetic skin. It radiated an almost normal amount of warmth, probably as a result of the machinery underneath it, and it had an almost humanlike spring to it. Whoever made this synthetic skin clearly knew what they were doing and how to hide their work.

 

Not many people could do that. Not without a lot of testing to replicate all the qualities of human skin, which no human would do willingly after Earth’s destruction. Maybe even before.

 

Who the hell was this kid?

 

“Well.. Guess this solves the first mystery..”

 

“Mystery..?”

 

Bucky smirked and winked at him, trying to put Tony at ease. He wasn’t here to cause trouble for the colonists or the kid, and most of them clearly didn’t want to be found.

 

“Yeah. How th’hell you knew how ta work my arm~”

 

After a moment of slightly stunned silence, Tony finally relaxed and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Sorry this took so long to get out, guys - work and university decided to destroy me for a bit there!! I tried to make a really long chapter with lots of backstory to make up for it (though, not entirely sure how well I did that)
> 
> I know next term is going to destroy me as well. Basically, I'm in my last year of school. So all of the major projects and super important coursework is happening this year, meaning that I might go under the radar once in a while. My goal for next term is to try to get at least two updates a month, and hopefully I will still be able to do one per week.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around, and please feel free to continue to leave comments or suggestions! If you guys want more backstory or world building let me know, I'll gladly write more! Any thoughts or theories, or even if you just want to tell me about what coffee you like! I'm happy to hear it all!
> 
> I missed my babies - I really hope school doesn't get that bad next term! Lesson learned - don't overwork yourself while you're in school, the extra money isn't worth it.
> 
> Cheers!


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